Chapter 28

Being alone made time stretch, slow and unbearable.

I took some fever medicine, and at least my body wasn’t swinging between chills and heat anymore. But the pain in my leg only screamed louder, intensifying with every passing hour.

I stared blankly outside the cave. Every rustle of leaves or crack of a twig made my heart jump—I kept wondering if they were back yet.

In reality, they had only been gone half a day.

As dusk fell, I painstakingly started a fire. With my injured leg, I could only grab nearby branches, which were damp. The lighter took several tries to ignite them.

My stomach growled; I took out the precious dried food and split it in half.

I regretted staying behind. Rationally, I knew following them would have been a burden. Emotionally… I didn’t want to be alone.

I thought about death.

I was still young. It wasn’t my time yet. I didn’t want to die—but in my current state, if they didn’t return, I might starve here. Or worse… attacked by insects or wild animals, poisoned or mauled… who knew?

I didn’t know where they were. Were they out already, or still wandering somewhere in the dense forest? Night fell, and if Qiu Lu or Xu Zirong spiked a fever again, could Wen Lingyu handle it alone?

She could—she’d done fine last night.

And what exactly was wrong with Qiu Lu and Xu Zirong? Some kind of poison? Or a curse?

Speaking of curses, my thoughts drifted to Shen Jianqing—the boy in the deep-blue Miao outfit. He must have been furious when we left without saying goodbye. Yet there were so many mysteries surrounding him, impossible to decipher.

Lost in thought, I suddenly heard a rustling.

“Hiss—hiss—”

I blinked, my mind snapping back.

A snake.

I turned. A jade-green snake dangled at the cave entrance. Its triangular head fixed on me, deep blue tongue flicking in and out. Its vivid red eyes held narrow, ominous brown pupils, staring me down.

I shivered in place, not daring to move, afraid to provoke it. Hands on the ground, I inched backward slowly.

The snake slithered along the cave wall, eyes locked on me.

The look of a predator zeroing in on its prey.

I grabbed a half-burned branch and threw it at the snake. It was hit—but didn’t retreat. It hissed angrily and slithered even closer.

Now, with a snake bite, no antivenom, and no way out, I’d be doomed.

Instinct for survival drowned out the pain in my leg. I stood, grimacing, and grabbed another branch. Ready, I faced the green snake.

The snake froze for a moment, completely unafraid of me. It slithered to the ground, arched its body, and lifted itself upright.

I held my breath, afraid to even draw air, terrified that a single blink would send it lunging forward.

“Hiss—”

All around, the only sound was the snake, menacing and dangerous.

Suddenly, it recoiled, then struck forward with lightning speed—lunging at me!

“Ah!” I shouted instinctively and swung my branch at it. The snake, cunning, dodged the blow and spiraled upward, snapping its fangs toward me.

I dropped the branch in panic, barely avoiding its bite.

My heart raced, chest heaving, breath erratic.

Without my makeshift weapon, I lost focus for a fraction of a second—and in that instant, the green snake advanced.

I caught a clear glimpse of its mouth, stretched almost 180 degrees, two venomous fangs glinting.

I stumbled backward, hitting the ground, and blindly grabbed something from my pocket, hurling it at the snake without realizing what it was.

Covering my head, only one thought raced through my mind: I was going to die here.

But the pain I imagined never came.

I lowered my hands and realized that what I’d thrown was the scented sachet Shen Jianqing had given me. It lay alone on the ground, while the snake seemed wary, coiling around the sachet, as if it wanted to strike but dared not.

Finally, the snake, dissatisfied, flicked its tongue, flattened itself, and slithered away.

I sat there, stunned, unable to comprehend.

The snake left… just because of a scented sachet?

I forced myself to calm my ragged breathing and, limping, picked up the sachet. I never imagined it could save my life at the crucial moment.

I squeezed the small pouch in my right hand. Inside, the dried herbs pressed together, offering a crisp, tactile sensation.

Exhausted though unharmed, I shifted further into the cave, my last reserves of strength gone. I lay on my side, drifting into a drowsy, hazy sleep.

When I woke, my body was icy, shivering unconsciously. Outside, darkness reigned. No light penetrated the cave. Only my heavy breaths mingled with the dripping of water somewhere in the shadows. The floor was damp and cold. Touching it reminded me of the pervasive moisture. I tugged at my jacket, trying to rise, but my muscles were sore, and my body completely lacked strength.

I lay silently for a while, the phrase clinging to life by a thread coming to mind. Self-mockingly, I thought—it fits me perfectly right now.

Even if I died here, would anyone truly grieve me? My parents, after all, had long stopped caring.

In the pitch-black cave, I even found myself missing them. Perhaps it’s human nature—to seek the most primal comfort when feeling fragile. In a way, that was comforting. They had their lives; even if I died, I wouldn’t be a burden.

I wallowed in despair and frustration, feeling strangely wronged. Disease is a ruthless destroyer of human will.

My thoughts scattered, and soon, I drifted into a half-conscious sleep again.

I hoped that when I woke next, my illness might ease. After all, I had survived so many years on my own.

But fate was cruel. When I awoke again, my mind was foggy. My eyelids felt glued shut; I could barely open my eyes to see the faint light seeping through the cave entrance.

My throat burned like it held shards of glass; swallowing was agony. Strength drained from my body. Even moving a finger took effort.

The relentless high fever had turned my body into a furnace, yet the floor felt ice-cold.

Half-delirious, I thought that if it continued like this, dying from the snake bite yesterday might have been easier than enduring this torment.

But I didn’t want to die—who would want to die? I was so young, studying at a prestigious school, with a bright future…

Someone, anyone, come—please.

Save me.

Perhaps my prayers were answered. I thought I heard footsteps!

Not hurried, not slow—each step echoing in my chest.

I struggled to look toward the cave entrance. A tall figure appeared, backlit. Only the silhouette was clear, yet I recognized it instantly.

Then came the faint chime of ornaments colliding—a sound delightfully clear in the cave’s echo.

Even from the shadow, I knew it was Shen Jianqing—the Miao boy I had avoided.

Once so kind, so pure, whether genuine or feigned, he wouldn’t ignore someone in need.

My heart pounded. This was my last chance. I parted my lips to cry out, but the sound was so faint, I could barely hear it myself.

Shen Jianqing approached and stopped, looking down at me with a cold, elevated gaze.

As if I were nothing more than an insect.

“Save me… save me…”

The vibration of my throat tore at me, and finally, Shen Jianqing bent down, pressing his ear to catch my desperate plea.

Then he whispered, his soft lips brushing my cheek, teasing and tingling like butterfly wings—or insects crawling.

“You told me that outsiders trade fairly,” he said. “If you want me to save you, what can you offer in return?”

Trade… what could I possibly offer?

My muddled mind worked slowly. One thing became clear: he had never spoken to me this way before—cold, almost cruel, with an edge I had never known.

Even if I had outright refused him then, he would have remained calm, unshaken.

In my memory, Shen Jianqing was like a gentle wind sweeping over mountains, or the solitary, luminous moon hanging high in the dark night. Whatever he was, it was nothing like what I was seeing now.

I struggled to lift my eyes—and realized the way he was looking at me now was like a predator staring at prey it had coveted for ages.

This feeling was alien. Like the snake last night—beautiful but deadly—he was a completely different person from the Miao boy I had spent half a month with.

My body trembled instinctively.

Then, belatedly, it hit me. My suspicions hadn’t been wrong. This Shen Jianqing was not the one I had known.

Perhaps this was his true self all along.

He had been deceiving us from the start.

My heart sank, bottomless, and I felt hollow inside.

“What will you give me in exchange?” He repeated slowly, deliberately, making sure I knew I was utterly at his mercy.

I struggled to speak, clinging to the last shred of hope. “I… I have money…”

“I don’t want money. That’s useless to me,” he cut me off abruptly. Leaning closer, he grasped the lower half of my face and pressed near. His breath washed over me.

Every word he spoke was like a nail driven into my mind: “I… only want you.”