The world returned to her slowly—first as soft, muted sounds, then as a faint chill brushing against her skin, and finally as a dim glow pressing faintly against her closed eyelids. Anshvi’s lashes fluttered, her breathing deepened, and when her eyes opened fully, the sight above her made her freeze.

  Rough, dirt-streaked stone hovered close to her face, and she was lying on top of someone. As she saw Eklavya, her heart jumped. She pushed herself up quickly, palms sliding over warm skin before she yanked her hands away. She found herself kneeling beside Eklavya, who lay unconscious on the cave floor, his breathing shallow but steady. Heat rushed to her face as she realized how intimately she had been resting on him. She looked away and cleared her throat, hoping the darkness hid her embarrassment.

  After that, she looked around. Despite being hidden deep inside the mountain, the cave was bright—filled with gentle radiance from the herbs lining its walls. Blues, greens, delicate purples… glowing softly like sleeping fireflies. Some sprouted from herbs and cracks, their roots merging with the mountain itself. Others hung like suspended lanterns. The air was thick with spiritual energy, dense enough to taste faintly sweet.

  “So, in the end, we arrived at the place we were meant to,” she murmured under her breath.

  Before she could admire it further, something on the ground caught her eyes—a long dark smear of dried blood leading from the entrance to where Eklavya lay. Her chest tightened instantly.

  “Is all of this… his?” Her brows knit with guilt, pain, and something warmer.

  She crouched close to him, her hand trembling slightly as she brushed a fallen leaf off his cheek. “Idiot,” she whispered, voice tight. “You could have left me. You should have left me.” But he hadn’t left her behind.

  Her throat constricted slightly, but she took a slow breath, centered herself, and placed two fingers gently on his forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Eklavya… but I need to know everything.”

  Her consciousness slowly slipped into his memories. From the moment she collapsed, she saw him throwing away his own safety, carrying her in his arms through the forest. He used his sword with his mouth to cut off the arm of the young master of the Falling Leaf Sect. She listened to their whole conversation, and she also saw him running with her in both his arms through the trees, with unimaginable speed that even he himself wasn’t able to control.

  She saw the moment he realized he couldn’t fight while protecting her—how his expression hardened and he pulled her deeper into the mountain. His breathing grew ragged and blood dripped from his hand, yet he still chose to shield her. And when they reached this hidden place, she saw him slow down while falling onto the stone floor, curling his arm around her head so she wouldn’t get hurt and taking all the impact himself.

  Her chest ached as she finally realized. He might act like he didn’t care in front of her, he might have rejected her. He might insist he didn’t have feelings for anyone and wouldn’t in the future. But his actions screamed louder than his words ever could on that day.

  When she withdrew her consciousness, her vision blurred for a moment before clearing. She took a soft breath and rose to her feet. She felt a quiet warmth knowing he cared for her, even if he rarely showed it.

  Anshvi lifted his unconscious body and carried him deeper into the cave. As she ventured deeper, the harsh stone slowly transformed into soft emerald grass, while rare herbs shimmered faintly like stars scattered along the walls. The air grew cooler and sweeter. She halted before a serene pond, its surface glowing as a slender silver fountain descended from the far wall, merging silently into the crystalline pool.

  She helped him sit upright. But the moment she came around to his back, the breath left her completely.

  His shirt was torn to shreds, stuck to his skin by layers of dried blood. The gashes across his back were deep—some still leaking. His arms, shoulders, and even his ribs were covered in scrapes and cuts. Emotion tugged at her again, but she forced herself to calm.

  She started tending his wounds. She poured fresh water on his back, cleaning away the dried blood. His muscles twitched under her touch, but he didn’t wake. Every gentle swipe of her cloth left a faint trail on his skin, and warmth coursed through her fingers.

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  She reached his side and tugged off the remaining cloth around his upper body. Heat prickled across her face before she shook her head sharply.

  “Focus,” she whispered to herself. “Just focus.”

  Her hands moved with steady precision—cleaning, applying medicinal paste, tightening the bandages around his arm and shoulder. Every time her fingers brushed a warmer patch of skin, she felt a flicker of awareness, but she ignored it.

  After tending to the outer wounds, she placed three recovery pills against his lips.

  “Come on… swallow,” she murmured softly.

  She gently tilted his jaw and helped him swallow the pills. Then she moved behind him, sitting cross-legged. Her knees brushed his lower back lightly as she pressed both palms against his spine. At the contact, warmth spread steadily across her hands, and she closed her eyes.

  Her ki flowed gently into him. She wasn’t strong enough to heal massive injuries instantly, but she was steady and patient. For over two hours, she guided his chaotic ki—smoothing wild surges, mending torn channels, calming internal bleeding.

  By the end, sweat dampened her forehead and her breathing grew uneven. Exhaustion gathered in her limbs like lead, but she kept going—because it was him.

  Only when she felt his ki returning naturally did she slowly pull her hands away. But her body didn’t cooperate. Her vision swayed and she collapsed forward.

  Eklavya’s hand shot up with perfect timing, catching her by the shoulders even while half-awake. His eyes opened a moment later, hazy but sharp enough to scan her condition.

  “You’re exhausted,” he murmured. His voice was rough, still weakened, but hearing it made her breathe out in relief.

  “N-Not really…” she said softly in denial.

  He looked at her pulse point and raised a brow. She cleared her throat. “Fine… maybe a little.”

  “Obviously,” he muttered, lowering her gently.

  Before she could respond, he placed a small ki-restoring pill at her lips. She blinked and hesitated for only a second, then parted her lips slightly and accepted it. Their eyes met for a moment. Her heartbeat skipped—soft, brief, but noticeable.

  She sat to regulate her ki while he rose unsteadily. His body wasn’t fully recovered, but he walked toward the glowing lake at the end of the cave. The water reflected shimmering several coloured lights from the herbs embedded in the ceiling stones. Mist hovered above the surface of the pool.

  When he touched the water, a shiver ran up his arm. “Cold,” he murmured. “But it’s filled with spiritual ki.”

  He stepped into the water. That’s when he saw four Soul Herbs growing on the island platform at the center of the pond. He took a step toward them.

  Then he heard a small splash behind him. He turned—and froze.

  Anshvi was stepping into the water, her violet hair floating slightly with the ripples. Her expression was unreadable as she approached.

  Before he could speak—

  Her arms slid around him from behind. Her cheek rested lightly against his back.

  He tensed instantly, thinking—what was happening?

  “…What happened?” he asked softly.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, but her voice was too soft and flustered. She released him almost immediately and stepped back, practically fleeing the water, her ears turning faintly red. She didn’t turn around even once.

  He blinked in confusion, but let it go.

  He climbed onto the platform, cut the Soul Herbs, and glanced back at her. “Can you take the herbs from the list I gave you? And the pill cauldron, if you have one?”

  She recovered a little and nodded. She gathered the herbs carefully and handed over her personal cauldron—something she usually never let anyone touch. “You know, pill refining?” he asked.

  “A little…” she said, eyes dropping for a moment.

  He nodded, then did something that startled her completely—he made a cut on his palm and mixed his blood with the herbs, refining them into liquid with a technique she had never seen before.

  “That… that’s a demonic method,” she whispered.

  He didn’t respond to her. She stared at him a little longer, curiosity and a hint of worry blooming in her eyes. But she didn’t ask further.

  When he finished, he pressed the liquid between his brows. “Please guard me.”

  “I will,” she said softly. “No one will find us here.” He nodded, trusting her completely, and closed his eyes.

  She watched him for a moment. His hair clung to the side of his face, his breathing even and calm. In the soft lake light, his silhouette looked stronger—quiet and unwavering. Her lips curved faintly as she stared at him.

  After some time, she turned toward the cave entrance and stood guard silently.

  The air outside carried the distant echo of voices—the Falling Leaf Sect disciples were still searching for him. Some shouted orders, others cursed in frustration. None found the hidden cave concealed by nature. And even if they did and tried to come in, she would cut them down herself.

  Inside the glowing cave, surrounded by ancient herbs and quiet spiritual ki water, a fragile stillness settled around the two of them.

  The silence between them felt warm—shared and safe.

  She sat opposite him across the lake and watched his closed eyes for a long time.