Chapter 16: Now Let Me Protect You

The darkness before dawn.

Mu Yin still hadn’t slept.

She sat by the fireplace, hugging her knees. The flames had long since died out, but she didn’t feel cold, because the scorched earth in her heart, burned by worry, was hotter than any fire.

The weathered wooden door of the Guixue Cabin was suddenly shoved open from outside, and a figure, wrapped in biting cold and scattered snowflakes, stumbled in.

Thud. A snow rabbit, frozen stiff, was tossed to the ground—his only trophy from this trip.

The figure didn’t collapse immediately. He forcibly twisted his body, turning his back to the faint glow by the fireplace, hiding his battered face deep in the shadows of the house.

Shen Luolin lifted his elbow to his mouth, trying to suppress the itch in his throat, but the fever and pain had already hollowed out his body.

“Cough… cough, cough!” The initial restraint only brought harsher backlash. Violent, uncontrollable coughs erupted instantly, curling his entire body, as if he was coughing up his very lungs with each fit.

In the throes of pain, he instinctively pressed his good hand hard against the arm that had been burned by dragonflame days ago.

The rough bandages were already soaked through with pus and blood, clinging tightly to his skin. The fever had started from there.

His cheeks were unnaturally flushed from the high fever, his breathing hot and hurried, yet he still stubbornly kept his back to her.

Mu Yin had already sprung up from the haystack by the fireplace the moment the door was slammed open.

She hadn’t slept. These past days, she had always been waiting.

She watched as he left every morning before dawn, braving the chill of early dew; then returned deep into the night, dragging heavier wounds and fatigue he could no longer hide, leaving behind one or two prey barely enough to fill their stomachs.

His wounds were all because of her.

Though her own dragonkin constitution kept her unscathed, that out-of-control dragonflame had still burned him.

Now, seeing even his back trembling, yet still refusing to show weakness, pain, guilt, and a long-suppressed anger—towards Aila, towards him, and towards herself—churned violently in her chest, nearly exploding.

Shen Luolin’s coughing finally subsided a little. He sensed Mu Yin’s movement, but didn’t even have the strength to look up.

With a hoarse, barely audible voice, he issued an order: “…I’ll go out again.”

He struggled, hand groping instinctively for the Hunter’s Bow leaning against the wall.

But this time, the obedient figure he expected did not move.

Mu Yin walked up to him, squatted down, and laid out everything she had prepared these past days right before his eyes.

They weren’t just a few scattered items.

It was a small Reserve Cache, her very own.

A bundle of smoked meat, tied neatly with straw rope, the smoke having turned it a mouthwatering reddish brown, wafting with the scent of fat.

A pottery jar, still fairly intact, that she’d found at the Lake Ruins, now filled to the brim with Dark Red Wild Berries she’d handpicked and washed one by one.

Beside it was a small pile of thoroughly dried mushrooms and several bundles of spare firewood, enough to burn for days.

While Shen Luolin was out hunting, Mu Yin had not been idle.

These were the backup provisions she’d exhausted herself gathering for him—and for themselves—while he was away.

Shen Luolin’s attempt to prop himself up froze in place.

He lifted fever-dazed eyes, staring at everything spread out before him, full of disbelief.

Mu Yin met his gaze, and in those silver eyes, not a trace of timidity remained—only a burning, undeniable stubbornness.

“Shifu, this will last us ten days.”

Her voice was soft but clear, each word striking Shen Luolin’s eardrums.

“Today, you aren’t going anywhere!”

Stunned by fever and shock, Shen Luolin was slow to react. He opened his mouth, as if to scold the student who dared disobey, but was cut off by a fiercer fit of coughing.

His vision darkened, the world spinning.

In that brief opening,

Mu Yin steeled herself, casting aside all hesitation. Decisively—even a bit roughly—she reached out and seized the tactical dagger from his limp hand, the one that had accompanied him through so much.

The cold metal handle felt familiar and heavy, but this time, not for self-defense—but to restrain him.

Next, she stood and took the Hunter’s Bow leaning against the wall, holding it tightly in her arms.

This was Mu Yin’s first time defying his orders.

Her first time “taking” from him a weapon symbolizing power and leadership.

Her hands trembled, partly from the weight of the dagger, partly from the audacity of this rebellious act.

Shen Luolin looked at his now empty hands, then at the girl blocking the doorway with his weapons, her slender body resolute. For a moment, he felt almost dazed.

For the first time, the girl he thought needed protecting was protecting him, in a way so resolute it left no room for argument.

“You…”

She stood firm under his fever-sharpened gaze.

“I haven’t been slacking on training.”

She pointed to the smoked meat, its surface carrying a faint, nearly imperceptible trace of Silver Energy.

“I used the most stable dragonflame to smoke it just right, instead of burning it to charcoal. That takes more patience and Dragonflame Control than lighting a candle.”

Her eyes turned to the jar of Dark Red Wild Berries.

“I used the most precise dragonflame to melt the thick ice on the vines, so I could pick every berry intact, without damaging a single one.”

“Shifu, I haven’t been lazy.”

Her gaze finally returned to his shocked face. In the dim firelight, those silver eyes shone with startling clarity.

“I just wanted you to know, your training is useful. And now, it’s my turn to use what I’ve learned to protect both of us.”

With that, she gave him no chance to argue.

The girl, who had just declared her own growth, swiftly returned and pressed his tall frame firmly back onto the hay by the fireplace, piling every bit of warmth she could find over him.

Only after finishing did she turn away, pick up a piece of smoked meat, and, using the too-heavy tactical dagger, began clumsily cutting it on a wooden board.

The sound of blade striking wood was dull and persistent.

Shen Luolin was burning with fever, consciousness swaying between clarity and haze.

He watched Mu Yin’s busy figure, listened to the rhythm of blade on wood, smelled the aroma of meat stew gradually filling the air.

He wanted to say something, but found he didn’t even have the strength to open his mouth.

The girl’s stubbornness, and the steaming pot of meat soup, became an undeniable shield of warmth, trapping this habitually commanding shifu in the position of one being cared for.

He didn’t know how long had passed before Mu Yin brought a steaming bowl of meat soup, kneeling in front of him.

She scooped up a spoonful with a crude wooden spoon, brought it to her lips, blew carefully until it was no longer hot, then brought it to his cracked lips.

Shen Luolin saw her eyes, reddened from the smoke, saw the “no refusals” written in her gaze. In the end, he gave up resisting and opened his mouth.

The warm soup slid down his throat, dispersing some of the cold burrowed in his bones.

Mu Yin fed him with utmost care, spoon after spoon, as if performing a sacred ritual.

Her movements were still clumsy. Several times, hot soup spilled onto the back of her hand, burning her, but she only flinched, then continued, blowing the next spoonful as if the pain was nothing.

Only when the bowl was empty did she gently set it aside.

She said nothing more, only reached out with her small, oil-stained hands, tucking the animal pelt more tightly around him, cocooning him in warmth.

Then, she sat back by the fireplace, picked up his tactical dagger, and began methodically cleaning the blade.

In the flickering firelight, her downcast profile was calm and focused.

She was no longer the girl who needed to hide behind others.

From this night on, the battered Guixue Cabin would be under her protection.