Chapter 012

Zhaoxue heard the chaos outside. Even though the basement was well soundproofed, with such a loud commotion, it was hard not to hear it.

Her family must have come to rescue her!

Sure enough… After raising her all these years, there must be at least some feelings left, right?

Zhaoxue suddenly felt a bit comforted, but the moment she realized how easily she felt comforted, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself:

This was something normal families should do for each other, and yet she was here, worrying so much, thinking back and forth, making herself seem both pitiful and ridiculous.

Just as she was thinking that, she heard faint footsteps by the hidden mechanism at the door—someone was fumbling with it.

The mechanism wasn’t too difficult, and soon, with a heavy click, the sounds from outside became much clearer in her ears.

Tap tap, tap tap.

Footsteps coming down the stairs.

Although the sound was very soft and partly drowned by the clamor outside, Zhaoxue knew exactly whose footsteps they were.

As light as a cat walking on a roof beam.

“Creak—”

The dusty door of the hidden floor cabinet creaked open just a crack, and a slant of light from the doorway spilled into the basement, illuminating the slender and upright figure of the young man against the light.

Zhaoxue blinked, her eyes rimmed red. Tears the size of pearls rolled down her cheeks, plop plop. She opened her mouth to call his name, but only a faint, cat-like whimper came from her throat.

All she could do was rush forward and throw her arms around him.

“You’re way too slow!”

Zhaoxue buried her head into the crook of his shoulder, choking back sobs as she muttered in a muffled, tearful voice, “If you’d been any later, you’d never have seen me again!”

Heaven knows how terrified she’d been, alone in the dark for so long. Especially after the system had vanished—her whole sense of willpower was the only thing keeping her upright and moving.

“I’m sorry, Zhaoxue.”

He didn’t know what else to say—just called her name. One hand clumsily patted her back, while the other carefully touched her, hesitated for a few seconds, then slowly tightened around her waist. He lowered his lashes and buried his face in her hair.

Just closing his eyes and feeling that she was really in his arms again was enough to comfort him. As long as she was alive… that was the greatest reward. As for the hug—

The tip of his nose was filled with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs and a faint trace of blood.
Zhaoxue could feel the boy’s embrace tightening more and more, as if he had recovered a lost treasure. Hot droplets slid down the side of her neck, and the increasing pressure made it hard for her to breathe.

“Hey, you…”

Zhaoxue felt something wasn’t right. She reached up to pat his cheek, trying to snap him out of it. “When you came in just now, what did you see outside? Can we still go back the same way?”

But as soon as she asked, she froze.

Ji Xueshou had his lips tightly pressed together, his face pale, lips drained of all color. Cold sweat beaded down from his temples—and along with it… blood.

Zhaoxue jumped in shock. She pulled back her hand and saw blood smeared across the back of it. Grabbing his arms and peeling them off her, she pulled open his outer robes to check—and found a series of small but deep wounds scattered all over his vulnerable spots. All in all, there were six or seven injuries, large and small.

The shallow cuts had torn through the light pink layer of muscle beneath his skin, and blood was slowly seeping out, staining the collar of his deep purple robe. The body that had once been pampered since birth, like flawless white jade, was now marred and bloodied.

Zhaoxue suddenly panicked.

She held onto Ji Xueshou, then looked around in a daze. A dim basement. Damp, dark, covered in dust. Nothing here could help.

In just a few seconds, she made her decision.

She wiped the hot sting from her eyes, stood up, and helped the groggy Ji Xueshou into the floor cabinet. Then, she ran to the basement door—gritting her teeth, using all her strength to slam it shut.

Since they couldn’t get out for now… Then she would make sure—absolutely nothing got in!

Howls and roars echoed right outside her ears. As the light disappeared, the sounds gradually faded into a distant blur.

From here on, Zhaoxue had only one thing to do:

Wait.

Either reinforcements would arrive first, and they’d survive— Or the monsters would get to them first, and they’d die.

There was no other path. As for going out to seek help herself—

Even setting aside whether she could survive out there long enough, more importantly, there was no way she could leave Ji Xueshou here alone.

After shutting the door, Zhaoxue ran back into the closet. Although it was fairly spacious, it still felt a little cramped with two people inside.

She sat down, leaned against the side wall, and propped up the boy’s neck, resting his head on her lap. She wrapped his bleeding wounds with her outer robe, then fumbled through her pocket and found the very last pill she had left.
She gently patted Ji Xueshou’s cheek. “Open your mouth.”

The boy, in a daze, fluttered his eyelashes slightly, and just then, the girl’s fingertip pressed gently against his lips. Her finger had somehow been cut—she hadn’t noticed. The wound near the knuckle was rather deep and had nearly scabbed over. Maybe she’d exerted too much strength earlier, and it had reopened. Now, fresh blood was slowly seeping out again.

Ji Xueshou opened his mouth and took her index finger between his lips. His warm, soft tongue gently licked across the wound. Just as the expected metallic tang of blood filled his mouth, a strange medicinal flavor also spread rapidly, flowing down his throat and sending a warm current through his entire body.

…A dreamlike, dizzying sensation bloomed like fireworks in Ji Xueshou’s mind.

The mingling of blood’s metallic bitterness and the fragrant, slightly sweet herbal taste was surreal.

Zhaoxue, meanwhile, felt a tingling sensation at her fingertip, warmly and wetly enveloped.
The previously sharp sting of pain from the cut now felt like a gentle kiss from a little fish brushing the wound.

“Y-you—”

Zhaoxue jerked her hand back as if scalded. “Ji Xueshou, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

But the moment the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted them.

Curling her fingers, she muttered, “I wasn’t scolding you… D-do you feel… any better?”

He didn’t respond. It looked like he had already drifted into sleep.

Zhaoxue started to feel drowsy too. She hadn’t slept all night, and now her eyelids were growing heavy. Her head gradually drooped against the side of the cabinet.

But she’d only nodded off for a short while before she was startled awake. She patted her cheeks to stay alert. To keep herself from falling asleep again, she forced herself to talk—anything to fill the silence:

“Ji Xueshou, you’re seriously too weak, you know that? How are you even frailer than I am, like a willow in the wind? If I’d known you were like this, I wouldn’t have let you come find me. Now I even have to worry about you…”

“Your sword is covered in blood. I used to think the moves you learned were just for show, but they actually came in handy.”

“When will you wake up? Your hand—it’s so hot. You’ll be okay, right? You won’t be hurt, right?”

Zhaoxue pressed his left palm against her cheek.
The boy’s hand was scorching hot, almost burning her skin, making her shiver with fear.

He felt like he was soaked in a pot of boiling water, as if his whole body was melting from the heat, flowing down from her lap.

Only the part where his palm touched her flushed cheek felt slightly cool. His long, curled eyelashes, heavy with tears, brushed past her skin, leaving cold wet marks. Her soft, dry lips pressed against his wrist, and her black hair draped over his fingers.

Her voice called out to him, as if coming from a distant dark place.

That voice drew closer, little by little.

—

“Xueshou… Ji Xueshou!!”

Ji Xueshou opened his eyes, heart pounding as he gasped loudly, grabbing the girl’s wrist beside him, suddenly sitting up.

He opened his eyes wide, her nose just inches from his face, her eyes red from crying again and again. He held back the breath he was about to exhale, his face flushed.

“You…” Zhaoxue looked at him for a few seconds.
As he slowly loosened his grip and tried to turn away, she suddenly hugged him tightly.

“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters, you’re okay.”

The tension in her voice finally eased, and she felt utterly exhausted. Her throat was dry and hoarse, and her chest rattled with a rough resonance as she spoke.

Ji Xueshou closed his eyes and held her waist tightly, saying nothing.

“I just… almost thought you were gone.”

With a heavy nasal tone and occasional sobs, Zhaoxue pressed her face against the side of his neck, “You really scared me.”

She didn’t know if the original story’s male lead would die—without the system, no one told her, and besides, this was a scene that hadn’t existed before. Alone and helpless, she could only hold his hand and pray in the dark.

“No more next time.”

“…Okay.”

He hugged her tighter and promised again, “Okay.”

But it was only a brief moment of peace.

The next moment, he released the warmth in his embrace, took up his sword, and his eyes grew alert and icy cold.

“What—”

Zhaoxue had just started to speak but suddenly realized something and covered her mouth in shock.

Even through the cupboard door, amid the noisy chaos, she clearly heard the heavy stone door at the basement entrance being pushed open.

Then footsteps came in—slow, steady, neither hurried nor slow—and with the footsteps dragged something heavy, scraping against the ground with each step.

In that instant, Zhaoxue’s heart pounded violently, she felt dizzy and almost couldn’t breathe, nearly fainting.

It was a deep, instinctive fear of that demon awakening in her memory.

There was still chaos outside—how could it have time to come here?

But there was no time to think.

She raised her hand, trembling slightly, and pressed down on Ji Xueshou’s sword hand, looking into his eyes and shaking her head.

He understood her meaning just by seeing her action.

“It’s terrifying.”

Zhaoxue wrote with her finger on his palm, “Don’t.”

She must know very well how terrifying this monster is. When Zhaoxue said “very scary,” it really meant it was extremely terrifying—far worse than those demons outside.

Ji Xueshou hesitated for a moment, then put down his sword.

Zhaoxue had already curled up, trying her best to shrink into the shadows. Despite her efforts to control herself, she couldn’t stop trembling all over.

Had she faced such a terrifying monster last night? How scared must she have been then?

Ji Xueshou also curled up and held her tightly. Their irregular heartbeats gradually synchronized, their body heat and emotions mingling and passing between them. Like two stray cats curled together on a cold, dark night, sharing each other’s fear but still trying to make a last stand.

“If… we don’t survive…”

His wet little finger hooked onto her right pinky.

Ji Xueshou pressed close to her ear, his moist lips brushing her earlobe as he spoke.

Zhaoxue opened her eyes wide in the darkness.

Footsteps stopped in front of the cupboard.

At the moment the sound ceased, she tightly grasped Ji Xueshou’s wrist with a grip that wouldn’t let go no matter what.

“Don’t…” she begged.

But this time the young man did not hesitate, he decisively pulled his hand away.

Then he stretched out his right arm with effort, and with the other hand grabbed his sword again, holding it in front of her.

Even though he could barely hold the sword steady.

“Zhaoxue. Close your eyes.”

Ji Xueshou’s voice was very soft, like a drifting speck of dust.

As the cupboard door slowly opened bit by bit, light gradually spread over his face.

“I… don’t want you to see that scene.”