In the black cave, mud slid slowly down the walls, converging at the bottom of the pit. The sluggish flow posed no immediate threat to the two figures still at its base.
The suffocating sound of viscous movement matched the blood in Jin’an’s veins, which had nearly frozen solid. He could hear each thunderous beat of his own heart, pounding like a war drum.
He continued pressing her chest, channeling his inner force, desperately trying to revive her body. Though unsure if his efforts could save her, he stubbornly clung to her last faint breath, repeating his attempts again and again, refusing to give up.
Clear tears rolled down his face, washing clean streaks through the mud that covered Li Shuang’s face.
After what seemed like an eternity of desperate struggle, he finally heard a soft cough.
Jin’an’s eyes blazed with sudden light as if witnessing the break of dawn.
Li Shuang’s body trembled, curling up in his arms as if in great discomfort. Her cheek unconsciously pressed against his chest, seeking the warmth of his skin, instinctively relying on the one who had saved her.
This small movement caused Jin’an’s nearly lifeless heart to suddenly race. His fingertips trembled as he dared not press her chest any longer or embrace her too tightly, fearing that any wrong movement might cause her more pain. He didn’t even dare to speak, afraid his voice might shatter her.
Li Shuang’s breathing gradually steadied in his arms, and she slowly opened her eyes. Seeing his reflection in them brought him peace.
“You…” Li Shuang’s voice was hoarse. “Why…”
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Jin’an placed his hand over her heart, slowly channeling his inner force into her body.
To Li Shuang, his healing energy felt like a strange warm current, bringing heat to her cold limbs. It also caused her heart to flutter involuntarily. At that moment, she seemed to sense emotions unique to this man—his anxiety, his sorrow, his pain.
He was feeling pain for her sake.
Li Shuang subdued her initial shock and gently raised her hand to cover his.
Jin’an’s body trembled slightly as his other arm lifted her, letting her nestle against him. His chin brushed against her forehead. “Are you alright now? You’re okay, aren’t you?” he asked softly, seeking her confirmation to ease the lingering anxiety in his heart.
Li Shuang, unusually, allowed herself to indulge in the warmth of another person’s body and the sense of security he provided.
He had saved her again.
In despair, at the brink of death, he had rescued her with an almost miraculous force, as if writing a legend with his very strength.
Never had anyone made her feel so… secure, simply by being present.
Yet strangely, she barely knew this man’s name or background.
“I’ll take you away from here.” Having confirmed that her pulse had stabilized, he withdrew his inner force and prepared to leave this dark place. He lifted her in his arms and leaped out of the muddy pit, heading toward where moonlight filtered through.
But just as they reached the gap between the rocks, a figure suddenly appeared before them. He tapped a folding fan against his chin. “What a splendid show I’ve witnessed. But I’m afraid I can’t let you leave just like that.”
From behind the man, Li Shuang could see the landscape under the bright moonlight. She knew this area of the Northern Border well. She recognized this as the backside of the small wooded hill. Though technically within Western Rong territory, this area had no cities nearby, and the Great Jin never ventured onto Western Rong soil, leaving it perpetually desolate and unguarded.
Jin’an’s aura instantly turned hostile.
In response to the killing intent, the man with the fan laughed. “Don’t misunderstand! Let me introduce myself—I am Wu Yin. This whole scheme wasn’t aimed at General Li at all.” He opened his fan and smiled with feigned warmth. “I was only after you, my little Gu-person.”
Li Shuang was startled at these words. Gu-person… what was that?
She looked up at the man holding her and saw that the blood marks extending across his chest were more vivid than usual, and his crimson eyes more terrifying than blood itself.
“Get behind me.” Jin’an set Li Shuang down, but as soon as her feet touched the ground, she felt her strength vanish and nearly collapsed.
Jin’an’s mind raced with worry: “What’s wrong?”
“Ah, she’s fine, she’s fine,” Wu Yin interjected. “She’s just affected by my wu-poison, that’s all.” He smiled, pointing at Li Shuang’s arm. “Applied earlier.”
Jin’an looked down and saw that Li Shuang’s sleeve had been torn at some point, revealing a small cut on her arm beneath. From the moment she had fallen into the mud pit, everything else had seemed more urgent than this small wound—neither Jin’an nor Li Shuang herself had noticed it.
Jin’an gently covered the wound on Li Shuang’s arm, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Wu Yin. “The antidote.”
“I told you, I have no intention of targeting General Li. I only need her to deal with you…”
Before he could finish, Jin’an’s figure moved like the wind, shooting forward with arrow-like speed. Even Li Shuang couldn’t react in time. She barely managed to steady herself against the rock wall, and when she turned to look, Wu Yin and Jin’an had become a blur of combat, their movements too fast for her increasingly hazy vision to follow.
The powerful forces of their fight caused rocks to shake loose, rolling across the ground. Li Shuang struggled to dodge a falling stone, and when she looked back, Wu Yin was pinned beneath Jin’an, whose crimson eyes blazed as he gripped Wu Yin’s throat. “The antidote. I won’t ask a third time.”
Yet under this threat, Wu Yin laughed. “If I die, General Li will have to accompany me to the afterlife.”
Jin’an’s eyes trembled, clearly still haunted by Li Shuang’s recent brush with death.
“It’s simple. As I said, I have no intention of harming General Li. I only want you.” Wu Yin raised his hand to grasp Jin’an’s hair that had fallen beside his face. “Come with me, and I’ll give her the antidote.”
Jin’an knew that the further he got from Li Shuang, the more his body would ache, but at this moment, such concerns no longer factored into his decision.
“Don’t… trust him,” Li Shuang struggled to speak, knowing this mysterious man’s simple nature. “I’m fine… kill him… the military doctors can… treat…”
Li Shuang had never been soft-hearted. She was used to making decisive kills, knowing that anyone who dared scheme against her and the Eastern Palace couldn’t be allowed to live. Better to eliminate the threat first; other matters could wait.
“General Li is truly ruthless.” Wu Yin turned to look at her. “Right now you’re just feeling weak, but soon your limbs will go numb. Then comes pain like ten thousand ants gnawing at your bones, and not long after that, death. This poison is beyond your doctors’ abilities to cure.”
The more casually he spoke, the darker Jin’an’s expression became.
“Kill him,” Li Shuang remained unmoved.
But Jin’an didn’t strike. “I don’t trust you.”
Li Shuang frowned, wanting to stop him, but when she opened her mouth, she realized she didn’t even know what name to call him…
“I said I won’t harm her. General Li’s life means nothing to me. As for whether you trust me or not, that’s up to you.” Wu Yin’s hand turned, producing a small white porcelain bottle. “This is the drug to control you. Swallow it, and I’ll give General Li the antidote.”
Before Li Shuang could say “Don’t,” her body suddenly went numb, her throat muscles tightened, and then excruciating pain spread throughout her body.
Jin’an snatched the porcelain bottle from Wu Yin’s hand and drank its contents in one gulp. “The antidote.”
Wu Yin smiled slightly. “Good, good, be patient. I’ll give General Li the antidote now.”
As he spoke, a woman in white clothing descended nearby, supporting the curled-up Li Shuang. She gripped Li Shuang’s chin and fed her a pill. Immediately, Li Shuang’s eyes closed as she lost consciousness.
Jin’an’s heart trembled. He tried to go to her, but Wu Yin grabbed his wrist. “You belong to me now.”
As he spoke these words, it felt as if insects were crawling into Jin’an’s brain, filling his ears with Wu Yin’s voice, and preventing him from taking even one step toward Li Shuang.
“Let’s go home, Jade Silkworm.” The voice-controlled his limbs, and Jin’an’s consciousness gradually faded under its assault.
Before his eyes closed, he only managed to see Li Shuang lying on the ground, motionless, peaceful, and steady like when she slept.
She was safe now, wasn’t she?
She was safe… that was all that mattered. Nothing else was important.
“Young Master.” The woman in white approached Wu Yin as at least four or five other women jumped down from the cave ceiling. Some supported Jin’an while others covered Li Shuang with ermine fur for warmth.
“Thank you all for your hard work.” Wu Yin stood up, dusting off his clothes. “Let’s go. We’ve recovered the Jade Silkworm, time to head back.”
“The Jade Silkworm has already accepted a master. Is it appropriate to leave their master behind?”
Wu Yin glanced at Li Shuang. “It’s only been a few days of bonding. No matter—we’ll just erase the Jade Silkworm’s memories. Besides, while taking our Jade Silkworm won’t be a problem, trying to smuggle the Northern Border’s Great General through the pass would be too troublesome. I’d rather not deal with such hassles on the journey back.” He stretched lazily, turning to look through the gap at the approaching dawn. “This freezing northern wasteland has made me miss the southern flowers.”