Meilin slipped out of the cave like a shadow melting into the forest.
The night was thick—wet leaves, mist, the smell of rain-soaked soil clinging to every breath. She slowed her steps, controlling even the sound of her heartbeat, and crouched behind a tree trunk just as voices drifted through the darkness.
"…we lost him."
It was a man's voice—low, irritated.
Another voice crackled through a satellite phone, distorted but sharp.
Cheng.
"We made the attack," Cheng reported grimly. "The girl fought back harder than expected. They ran into the deep forest. We lost visual."
A pause.
Then the boss's voice came through, cold and merciless.
"Search. Fan out. Don't let them escape. I want them alive."
"Yes."
The call ended.
Boots crunched against dead leaves as several figures split up, their silhouettes cutting through the trees like hunting dogs released from a leash.
Meilin's eyes narrowed.
So that's how it is.
She waited.
Counted their steps. Measured the distance. Only when the sounds faded deeper into the forest did she move again—swift, silent, lethal in her calm.
She knelt near a cluster of low-growing plants, lifting her phone just enough to use its dimmest light, shielding it carefully with her palm.
Her fingers brushed over familiar leaves.
✨ Bai Ji Guan (white cogongrass root leaves) — to stop bleeding.
✨ Huang Qin (skullcap leaves) — clears heat, suppresses toxins.
Good.
Enough to stabilize him.
She gathered them quickly, tucking them inside her jacket, then retraced her steps back to the cave, erasing her tracks as she went.
Inside, the darkness greeted her again.
She immediately sealed the entrance—stones, branches, leaves—layer by layer, until even moonlight couldn't slip through. Only then did she crouch beside Zihan.
He was burning up.
Her hand pressed to his forehead made her chest tighten.
"So hot…" she murmured.
She crushed the leaves between two smooth stones, mixing them until they became a dark green paste. Her movements were gentle but efficient—hands steady despite the fear coiled tight in her chest.
She carefully unwrapped the cloth around his palm.
The cut was deep—but clean.
She applied the paste generously, the herbal scent filling the small space, then rewrapped his hand securely.
The bleeding slowed.
But the fever didn't.
Meilin stared at him for a second, jaw clenched.
There's only one way.
She removed her jacket and lay down beside him, closing the small distance between them. Then, without hesitation, she pressed herself against him—skin to skin—sharing her body heat, her steady heartbeat.
"This is going to help," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Almost immediately, Zihan shifted.
Drawn by the sudden coolness, his arms moved on instinct, pulling her closer. His forehead pressed into the crook of her neck, breath uneven at first—then gradually slowing.
Meilin froze for a second.
Then her expression softened.
She lifted the jacket and spread it over both of them, cocooning them together in the dim cave, shielding them from the cold and the world outside.
"It's okay," she whispered near his ear, voice barely sound. "Sleep. I'm here."
His breathing evened out.
The fever slowly eased.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
—
Sometime past midnight, Zihan stirred.
His consciousness surfaced slowly, hazy and warm.
Something felt… different.
His arm was heavy.
No—he was holding someone.
His eyes fluttered open.
Darkness. Rock walls. The faint scent of herbs.
And then—her.
Meilin.
Curled against him, fast asleep, hair scattered across his chest, her arm still around his waist. Their bodies were wrapped together under a single jacket.
His breath caught.
What…?
His gaze dropped to his hand.
The wound was treated—clean, wrapped, no longer bleeding.
Realization hit him all at once.
She saved me.
again.
His chest tightened with a warmth far stronger than the fever had been.
Careful not to wake her, he adjusted slightly, instinctively pulling her closer this time—not from unconscious need, but from choice.
A faint smile touched his lips.
For the first time that night, his heart felt calm.
Surrounded by darkness, danger still lurking outside—
He fell back asleep.
With warmth in his chest.