Chapter 102

Chen Shu’s fever kept her bedridden for a night as well. Despite her earlier agreement with Yun Shen to take the night watch, she merely mumbled a few words while turning over in his embrace, then slept through the entire night.

By dawn, when the sun peaked over the eastern horizon, the fever had finally broken. She woke up in a cold sweat.

By then, the rain had stopped. If not for the fresh mud everywhere, and without the occasional piercing chirp of birds—accompanied by the bright sunlight—creeping into the warm cave, it would feel as if it never rained.

While waking up, she was nestled in Yun Shen’s arms.

The two held each other tightly. Yun Shen’s robes were half-unbuttoned, his slightly cool skin pressed against her through a layer of fabric—an unnervingly clear sensation, making her skin tingle and her mind sharpen with alertness.

This sight was entirely different from what she’d anticipated before sleep. Setting aside her confusion about how she slept the whole night—only to wake feeling exhausted under the bright morning sun—their tightly intertwined posture alone was deeply perplexing.

Like a spark of lightning, so many questions flared in her mind that she didn’t know where to start.

Yun Shen, of course, hadn’t slept at all. Once he saw she was awake, he reached out, disregarding her bewildered expression, and pressed his hand to Chen Shu’s forehead. Feeling the temperature had normalized, he sighed in relief and softly said, “The fever’s gone.” For quite a while, Chen Shu simply stared blankly at him, utterly speechless.

It wasn’t about propriety; this tight embrace felt nostalgically grounding, almost as if they should forever be bound together like this.

But Yun Shen’s attitude toward her and his expression seemed… subtly changed.

Before, they were mere acquaintances—one bonded by fate and a fondness neither too deep nor shallow, certainly not near friendship, let alone intimate closeness.

No matter how carefully Yun Shen maintained his polite distance—a boundary she, despite her bluntness, recognized—she hadn’t pried about why he came to Mijiang Slope. Nor did she ask how he came to know Xiao Zhong after arriving in Fangcheng.

At most, she’d offered an offhand worry while they ate beneath the cliff that he might be scammed.

Beyond that, nothing. Yesterday’s hunt and feast, plus her own fever—which, though she hadn’t realized at the time, naturally drained her strength—left her blind to that subtle shift. But now, bathed in brilliant morning light, her mind cleared enough to perceive it clearly as she studied Yun Shen’s face so near…

It was as if the fog Yun Shen always kept around himself had lifted, allowing his expression—once a carefully maintained smile—to reveal true worry and joy through the slightest lift of his brows or the curl of his lips.

Her initial shock transformed instantly into intense curiosity. Chen Shu’s eyes snapped wide open, and she leaned even closer to Yun Shen. Unconsciously, she loosened her grip on the hand she’d held all night and lifted it to press against the ground near his ear.

Just as she fixed her gaze to scrutinize him more closely, Yun Shen’s lips twitched toward a smile.

“Well? Did last night’s fever make you slow-witted? Don’t you recognize me?”

“… Exactly! I don’t recognize you!” Chen Shu retorted, her probing mood instantly shattered. Grumbling without obvious cause, she paused. Then, deliberately, she pressed the hand she’d just moved sharply downward—

Right onto Yun Shen’s half-bare shoulder blade.

Satisfied at hearing him gasp in feigned pain, she finally seemed appeased. With a faint humph, she added, “Was I feverish last night? Is that why you… didn’t wake me?”

Yun Shen held her hand, pretending intense suffering as he carefully shifted her thunderous force aside. Sighing heavily, he lamented, “Wasn’t that the reason? And here our Lady Chen Shu refuses to acknowledge my harrowing nigh—”

“I’ll acknowledge it! Who said I wouldn’t?!” Chen Shu cut in, finally scrambling up from him. She brushed straw from her robes, muttering under her breath, “How come you’re talking more and more like that Liu Mao… always circling and coiling.”

“—harrowing night, only to have my words mocked as circling and coiling.” Unfazed and stubborn, Yun Shen completed his sentence with characteristic gentleness.

Then he met Chen Shu’s gaze—who was now sitting halfway up. And flashed her an utterly flawless smile instead.

Chen Shu’s face flushed faintly red, as if she had gone back to being that girl who had just descended the mountain, unable to argue or speak clearly, fumbling with words. Unclear whether it held some embarrassment or anger at her self-talk being exposed, she moved her lips and took a deep breath, eventually resorting to her killer move—

“…So how did you bring down my fever? Was I really delirious?”

She changed the subject.

Yun Shen laughed, sitting up like her, not bothering to argue too much. He let her steer the conversation away like this, then lowered his head with a smile and said, “Don’t you always say I’m cold? I took off my clothes to ‘cool you down.’ Seems it was useful; you didn’t get too fried!”

The sword was naturally cold, especially one that had lain in a deep pool for thousands of years. But he couldn’t just say that outright. Instead, he picked up Chen Shu’s words as an excuse and brushed it off. Chen Shu indeed noticed nothing, glanced down, and saw she was still wearing Yun Shen’s clothes—obviously meant to warm her—so her gaze drifted away.

“Of course I didn’t get fried!” she said, sneaking a peek at Yun Shen’s expression. She found he had no temper at all upon waking today; his look softened, not stubborn like before during their argument. After a pause, she took the initiative and said, “I still have to thank you. I didn’t judge wrong! When we first met, I called you a good person. You saved me this time, and I jumped off a cliff to rescue you—that means I saved the right person. Two things: I rescued you, you rescued me, so let’s call it quits!”

As she spoke, she waved a hand grandly, giving the matter a decisive statement.

Just then, the sun burst fully out from the eastern mountains. The soft light instantly brightened, turning slightly dazzling. The rising sun emerged from the east, its morning glow spilling perfectly into the narrow corner of the cliff cave, passing through Chen Shu’s body and diffusing, as if she herself was glowing, illuminating every nook of the cave.

Perhaps blinded by that intense light, Yun Shen—who had been watching her—paused his breath and turned away. Then he smiled and teased her, “…How can that be settled?”

The arrogance Chen Shu had just calmed flared up instantly. She glared at Yun Shen.

“Isn’t this enough? I’m being fair! I jumped from such a high cliff…” she said, flustered enough to almost jab her finger before his face, counting each point earnestly to him.

“I’m not saying you owe me anything,” Yun Shen said, smiling. Waiting until she blushed, leaned in closer, and was about to press on stubbornly, he leisurely cut her off, “I mean, you rescued me more than once. There was the Valley of Villains, the Diancang Pass flood, and another time—did you forget?”

Chen Shu froze instantly. All the words she’d struggled to form choked in her throat; she couldn’t advance or retreat. After a while, it melted into a hushed, embarrassed “Oh.” Only when Yun Shen’s eyes met hers again did she snap back to reality, scratching her still-warm cheek.

“Not entirely true. At Diancang Pass, you were just lucky…” she said.

“You saved the whole Diancang Pass! No matter how lucky I was, it was just floating a few times in the water. Without you, I’d have been swept away by the flood eventually,” Yun Shen said, staring straight at her.

This time, of the two, Chen Shu was the first to avert her gaze.

Clearly, at Diancang Pass, she’d been thanked face-to-face by thousands, whose gratitude shone just as brightly as Yun Shen’s. Yet she’d never felt so scalded she couldn’t face them, almost like she saw an emotion beyond thanks in his eyes.

Chen Shu turned back, first fussing with the quilt while humming, then said:

“…Rescuing people, if you can do it, you did it. It doesn’t mean I owe you anything. If you care, don’t always nag me like my teacher!”

“…Fine,” Yun Shen said, possibly surprised by such a small request. He shook his head with resigned amusement, reached out to take his clothes from Chen Shu’s hands, gave them a shake, and draped them smoothly on himself. Then he turned to say, “You insisted the sword must be in the Valley of Villains. Since you’re so sure, it shouldn’t be hard to find. But once you find that ‘sword,’ what will you do? Go back to your mountain gate?”

“I don’t know about that,” Chen Shu replied, startled, then laughed. “Why think so far? I haven’t found the sword yet. Even if I do go back to Tianyu Mountain, I’m getting your picture to show my teacher. I’ll tell him about a scholar down the mountain who loves to nag endlessly…”

“Oh, fine, all bad stuff,” Yun Shen said.

“Not all bad!” Chen Shu said cheerfully, stretching out her hand. Now she really counted on her fingers, listing them out for Yun Shen: “You have brains, good at arguing—that’s one. Smart, full of bad ideas… Even that’s a compliment! Oh, and the most important—”

“The most important what?” Yun Shen asked, raising his eyebrows as he lifted his chin to humor her.

“—You’re a good person!”

At her words, Yun Shen chuckled softly. He didn’t respond or flatter back, just lowered his head to grasp her palm and inspect it closely. His smile deepened.

“…Not just the fever gone, but this hand wound’s healed too?” he said, reaching to gently stroke the side of her palm, much like he had touched her forehead moments before.

That patch of skin, still crusted over just yesterday, had miraculously grown new flesh overnight. At first glance, she could hardly spot yesterday’s injury at all!

After Yun Shen spoke but before he got her reply, he lifted his head.

Their gazes met. Chen Shu blinked innocently, tilted her head, and said in some confusion, “It healed, right? Isn’t that normal? I’ve always recovered like this.”

“Seems wrong,” Yun Shen said. “My foot injury hasn’t ‘healed’ yet.”

“…You’re right!” Chen Shu exclaimed, opening her mouth and nodding slowly, putting on a thoughtful face. After a good while, she came up with nothing. So, mentally calculating her little abacus, she openly “stole a glance” at Yun Shen.

Sure enough, the moment Yun Shen noticed her gaze flickering toward him, he asked, “…Has your magic power been restored?”

Because her magic power had returned, the overnight high fever hadn’t caused any harm; instead, it gradually faded. And because her magic power had returned, her hand injury healed rapidly, just like her previous experiences back at Tianyu Mountain.

“…Exactly!” This time, genuine understanding dawned on her. She broke free of Yun Shen’s grip, casually conjuring a small flame. The flickering light shone brilliantly in her pure black pupils. After she waved her hand again, the flame vanished as easily as it had appeared. She continued, her voice brimming with excitement, “It really is all back, every bit—”

“That’s good news,” Yun Shen said, offering a smile. “I was truly worried your fever last night might cause complications. Now that your magic is restored, you shouldn’t catch colds so easily. It’s definitely a good thing… Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Who’s staring?!” Chen Shu retorted, only then realizing she actually was staring intently at Yun Shen. She quickly averted her eyes and stood up from the cave floor, pulling Yun Shen out as if to mask her embarrassment. “I was just thinking…”

“Wait, what do you—”

The next instant, Yun Shen, whose tone was always so steady, couldn’t help a startled intake of breath. Chen Shu grabbed him, yanked him up like uprooting scallions—

“I told you—my magic’s back! Come on, I’ll take you back to the Valley of Villains for a look! And find my sword while we’re at it! Hold tight!”

“…My robe! Bring it with us!”