That afternoon, Xuan Xi walked into the forest with a lunchbox as promised.
When her Perception extended toward the cave as usual, she caught the presence of several people inside.
Their auras felt very similar to Shen Lingshuang’s.
‘Could it be that the people hunting Shen Lingshuang had arrived?’
Xuan Xi didn’t dare speculate further.
She quickened her pace, crossed the earthen mound, and ducked into the cave.
The cave felt far more crowded than before.
Over a dozen soldiers of the Flood Dragon Clan stood in the stone chamber, all clad in deep-blue armor with short blades at their waists.
Their frames were slender, their scales varying in shade, glinting with a cold metallic luster under the glow of the Spirit Stones.
When they saw Xuan Xi enter, their gazes fell on her all at once, carrying a hint of scrutiny.
Shen Lingshuang sat at the center, and when she spotted Xuan Xi, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“The one who saved me is here!”
The leading Flood Dragon soldier turned around.
She was a middle-aged woman with a few silver strands woven into her hair, tied into a thick, long braid hanging down her back.
A scar ran from the corner of her right eye down to her jaw, looking somewhat intimidating.
Her aura was far stronger than Shen Lingshuang’s.
The way she stood was like a blade without a sheath, sharp and exposed.
She clasped her fists toward Xuan Xi with crisp, decisive movements and no excess pleasantries.
“Captain of the Jiao long Clan Personal Guard, Cang Lan. Our young lady owes her life to you, benefactor. The Flood Dragon Clan is deeply in your debt.”
Xuan Xi looked at her and slowly shook her head, “She already paid. There’s no debt left.”
Cang Lan’s brow twitched slightly, and she turned to Shen Lingshuang with a puzzled look.
Shen Lingshuang gave a small nod and pulled two money pouches from her waist, handing them to Xuan Xi.
“Four hundred gold coins in each. This is your final payment.”
Xuan Xi took them.
They were heavy.
She tucked the pouches into her pocket, then naturally crouched down to examine Shen Lingshuang’s right leg.
The wound on her calf had healed about eighty percent.
New scales were drawing in from the edges toward the center, leaving only a thin gap in the middle.
The scales on her right arm had almost fully grown back, though their color was slightly lighter than the surrounding area.
But that didn’t matter—in a few months, they would match perfectly.
“In two more days, you’ll be able to walk normally. But remember, no strenuous activity for a month. Your scales haven’t fully set yet.”
Xuan Xi stood up and handed the medicine bottle to Shen Lingshuang.
“Take the remaining medicine with you. Apply it once a day, and the wound should be fully healed by the time it’s gone.”
Shen Lingshuang took the bottle and looked down at the small porcelain vial.
The surface still held the lingering warmth from Xuan Xi’s palm.
“I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Mm. Travel safely.” Xuan Xi nodded.
Shen Lingshuang didn’t leave right away, though.
Instead, she picked up a small leather skin from beside her, pulled out the stopper, and a faint aroma of wine drifted out—a fermented fruit wine.
She handed the skin to Xuan Xi.
“Fruit wine from the Jiao long Clan, brewed with ice-berry fruit that only grows in the Northern Wasteland. Try it.”
Xuan Xi took it and drank a small sip.
It tasted sweet on entry, with no strong sense of alcohol.
The tangy sweetness of the ice berries spread across her tongue, and only when the liquid slid down her throat did a faint warmth rise up.
“That’s good.” She handed the skin back.
Shen Lingshuang took it and drank a bigger mouthful than Xuan Xi had, swallowing a large gulp before letting out a satisfied breath of Turbid Qi.
She wiped the corner of her mouth, set the skin down beside her, and let her gaze drift to the glowing moss on the ceiling of the stone chamber for a while.
“The Jiao long Abyss doesn’t have moss like this. After all, the wasteland is too cold. Come winter, never mind moss—nothing can survive. The entire Jiao long Abyss is dead.”
She paused, then said, “But it’s different here. Winter here is alive.”
Xuan Xi didn’t answer.
She had grown up in this small town and never thought there was anything special about winter here.
The gray sky, the bare trees.
She just never imagined there were places where winter was even harsher.
Shen Lingshuang took another drink, slower this time, sipping in small mouthfuls.
Her cheeks began to flush under the effects of the alcohol.
Her skin was pale, so the redness was especially obvious—like a fire burning beneath her scales.
“You’re blushing,” Xuan Xi said.
“I’m not.” Shen Lingshuang didn’t believe it.
She reached up and touched her cheek, pausing when her fingers met that burning-hot skin.
“…Huh? Can fruit wine get you drunk too?”
“You’re Water Attribute. Water-attribute dragons don’t get drunk easily, but that doesn’t help when you drink this much.”
Xuan Xi watched her.
Those deep-blue eyes were beginning to glaze over, and her whole body seemed to sway slightly.
Shen Lingshuang stoppered the leather skin, set it aside, and leaned against the stone wall to rest for a while, her eyelashes trembling softly with each breath.
Cang Lan walked over from the other side of the chamber, stopped before Shen Lingshuang, and gave a slight bow, “Young lady, it’s time to depart. The journey from here to the Jiao long Abyss is long, and we still need to circle around several Monster Habitats along the way. We shouldn’t delay.”
Shen Lingshuang opened her eyes and refocused her gaze.
She pushed herself up against the stone wall, her right leg still unable to bear full weight, her knee bending slightly.
Cang Lan reached out to steady her, but Shen Lingshuang waved her off and steadied herself.
She turned to look at Xuan Xi, her vertical pupils gleaming especially bright in the light of the Spirit Stones.
“Right, I never asked my benefactor’s name.”
“Xuan Xi.”
“Xuan Xi.” Shen Lingshuang rolled the two syllables around on her tongue, as if savoring her name.
“A good name! You can heal, you can fight, and you speak with wisdom.”
She looked at Xuan Xi.
“You definitely aren’t an ordinary dragon, but I don’t care about that. As a friend, I, Shen Lingshuang, have decided—you’re mine!”
With that, she pulled an old scale from her body.
The scale was very thin, almost translucent under the light of the Spirit Stones.
She handed it to Xuan Xi.
“This is my token. Keep it. Once I become a general, come find me in the Northern Wasteland, and we’ll drink together.”
Xuan Xi took the scale.
It was quite thin, slightly cool to the touch, with edges that were a little prickly.
“The world is vast, and we may never have another chance to meet.” Shen Lingshuang’s voice grew softer, “But please remember—I, Shen Lingshuang, owe you my life. If you ever find yourself in trouble, no matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, if you just say the word, I will come—even if it means walking through blades or diving into fire!”
Xuan Xi tucked the scale into her pocket and nodded.
Shen Lingshuang turned and walked toward the cave exit, with Cang Lan and the other guards following behind her.
Footsteps echoed through the cave, one after another, growing fainter and fainter.
She stopped at the cave entrance.
“Xuan Xi, until we meet again.”
“Until we meet again.”
The deep-blue figure vanished into the light at the cave mouth, and the cave fell quiet once more.
With the Spirit Stones taken away, the stone chamber dimmed again.
Xuan Xi stood in place, looking down at the scale from Shen Lingshuang in her hand.
She touched it, then finally tucked the scale into her innermost pocket.
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