As night deepened, the fire in the dilapidated hut crackled, illuminating two faces with different thoughts.
After Xuán Mò's "Thank you," he fell silent again, closing his eyes as if asleep. But Lín Xiāoxiāo knew he wasn't. His tensed jawline and the occasional frown due to pain showed he was consciously enduring his injuries.
The atmosphere in the hut was awkward.
Lín Xiāoxiāo's gaze uncontrollably drifted to the only adobe kang bed in the room.
The kang wasn't small; it could comfortably fit two people. But... sharing a bed with a stranger, a dangerous man who had tried to strangle her a few hours ago?
Just the thought made her scalp tingle.
However, what choice did she have? Sleep on the ground? In this late autumn night, the cold was bone-piercing, and the ground was both cold and damp. Her frail body would likely follow the original owner's fate and kick the bucket from the cold after one night.
After much deliberation, her survival instinct finally triumphed over her shame and fear.
She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound as natural and serious as possible, as if discussing a weighty academic matter. "Um... Xuán Mò, right? Look, there's only this one kang in the room. You need to keep warm due to your injuries, and I need rest. So... we might have to share tonight."
The man on the kang stirred slightly, but didn't open his eyes or speak.
Lín Xiāoxiāo braced herself and continued, "Don't worry, I have no improper intentions towards you! You're too injured to do anything anyway, right? We're just purely, temporarily 'kang mates.' For fairness, and for mutual sense of security, we can draw a line in the middle."
Saying this, she acted without waiting for Xuán Mò's agreement. She found some broken bricks, previously used to prop up crates, and arranged them in the middle of the kang, forming a low, symbolic 'Demarcation Line.' Then, she took her tattered outer robe, the only thing she could use as a blanket, and spread it on her side of the kang.
"See? This line is our border. No trespassing. Whoever crosses is a dog!" she said, pointing to the bricks, her tone feigning lightness, though her heart was pounding.
After finishing, she blew out the flickering, crude oil lamp made from a broken bowl and rush pith, leaving only the faint glow of the embers.
She fumbled her way to the very edge of her half of the kang and carefully lay down, her body stiff, trying to stay as far from the 'line' as possible. The cold adobe kang dug into her bones, and the thin robe offered no protection against the chill. She curled up, shivering uncontrollably.
On the other side, Xuán Mò never opened his eyes, nor did he offer any opinion on her 'drawing a line to govern.' He simply lay there, his breathing unusually clear in the silent night.
Night deepened.
Lín Xiāoxiāo was cold and tired, her body utterly exhausted, but her mind was highly alert, making sleep impossible. Lying next to a stranger whose breathing she could hear felt incredibly strange.
After an unknown length of time, just as her consciousness began to blur, on the verge of succumbing to sleep, she heard a suppressed, barely restrained cough from beside her.
It was Xuán Mò.
He seemed to be trying not to make a sound, but the vibration of his chest agitated his wound, causing a series of muffled, choking coughs. Each cough was followed by a sharp intake of breath, indicating extreme pain.
Lín Xiāoxiāo instantly woke up.
She hesitated for a moment, then pushed herself up and looked at him in the faint firelight. Xuán Mò's face was even paler than before, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He bit his lower lip so hard that the veins in his neck bulged from the effort of suppressing his pain.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Xuán Mò didn't answer, or rather, he couldn't. He merely looked at her with eyes that seemed particularly deep in the darkness. The murderous intent from before was gone, replaced by pure, physiological agony.
Lín Xiāoxiāo sighed. As a healer at heart (albeit a false one), she couldn't just ignore him.
She got up and fumbled for the remaining warm water in the earthenware pot. "Drink some water, it might make you feel better."
This time, she didn't use the leaf funnel. She hesitated for a moment, then carefully cradled his neck and brought the edge of the pot to his lips.
Xuán Mò's body stiffened for a second, seemingly unaccustomed to such close contact. But he was indeed terribly thirsty; his throat felt like it was burning. Finally, he took a few sips of water from her hand.
After drinking, he lay back down, his breathing stabilizing slightly.
"Thank you." In the darkness, his hoarse voice sounded again, carrying a barely perceptible hint of... humanity, more so than before.
"It's nothing." Lín Xiāoxiāo put down the pot and returned to her spot.
After this exchange, the tense, confrontational atmosphere between them seemed to have eased slightly. At least, Lín Xiāoxiāo felt he no longer looked like a beast ready to attack at any moment.
In the latter half of the night, Lín Xiāoxiāo finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep.
Her sleep was restless, filled with bizarre dreams: sometimes laboratory seedlings, sometimes lightning strikes, and at other times, Xuán Mò's cold eyes.
When she regained consciousness again, she was awakened by the daylight filtering through the window and the familiar pangs of hunger in her stomach.
She groggily opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the intact 'brick defense' on the kang in the middle of the bed.
A wave of relief washed over her – good, both parties had strictly adhered to the agreement.
Then, she instinctively turned her head to look at the other side of the kang.
Xuán Mò seemed to still be asleep. In the morning light, the contours of his profile appeared softer. His long eyelashes cast small shadows beneath his eyelids, and his thin lips were pressed together, lending him a handsomeness befitting his age (he looked barely in his early twenties), a stark contrast to his sharp demeanor when awake.
However, Lín Xiāoxiāo's gaze was quickly drawn to the bedding beneath him.
Where his injured shoulder lay, a small patch of dark red blood stained the mat – his coughing last night had indeed reopened the wound.
Lín Xiāoxiāo's heart sank.
She quietly got up, preparing to check his injuries. Her eyes inadvertently swept across the floor by the edge of the kang on her side.
There, near the doorway, were several blurry footprints with traces of wet mud!
They definitely weren't hers or Xuán Mò's! The prints were larger and the patterns rougher!
Someone had entered while they were asleep?!
Lín Xiāoxiāo's blood ran cold. She abruptly looked up, her gaze instantly fixed on the loosely shut, utterly useless wooden door.
Who was it?
A passing villager?
Or... had the pursuers hunting Xuán Mò already found this place?
**Chapter Three (End)**