Hot flashes

Zhou Heng's nerves were already stretched to the limit, and he instinctively looked over upon hearing the sound.

A snake with dark red and charred black rings was slowly emerging from the crack in the rocks, half of its body protruding from the pile of broken rocks.

It seemed to be attracted by the fresh smell of blood. Its triangular head was slightly raised, and its cold vertical pupils reflected two points of eerie green in the dim light. Its tongue flickered, emitting a faint hissing sound, and it was facing Xiao Jue's hand, which was hanging down on the ground and close to the pile of ore.

Time seemed to stretch out and freeze at that moment.

Zhou Heng's mind went blank. He didn't even see that Xiao Jue's hand had quietly caught a pebble as it fell to his side. His body moved faster than his mind, and he lunged forward, knocking Xiao Jue off balance!

"There's a snake!"

The two of them crashed heavily onto the cold, hard ground.

Almost simultaneously, the startled venomous snake shot up like a dark red lightning bolt. After its attack missed, it twisted strangely in mid-air, and its fangs pierced Zhou Heng's neck, which was completely exposed and unprotected due to his rescue action.

The sharp, stinging pain felt like a red-hot nail being driven into the flesh, followed by a rapidly spreading numbness and burning sensation.

Zhou Heng groaned and reached for his neck, touching the rapidly swelling skin and warm, wet liquid. In the dim light of the day, he saw the unusually dark blood on his fingertips.

"Snake..." He opened his mouth, his voice trembling without him even realizing it, "It...it bit me..."

A tremendous fear belatedly seized him.

A cold, numbing sensation was spreading from the wound outwards, carrying an ominous warmth. He had heard too many horrific stories of people bitten by venomous snakes.

My vision started to blur, and breathing seemed to become difficult.

He practically scrambled to turn to Xiao Jue, his face drained of color, his lips trembling, and tears welling up unexpectedly, mingling with the dust of the mine shaft and leaving two pathetic streaks on his face.

"My lord..." his voice trembled with tears, "...It's poisoned...Am I going to die?"

He instinctively covered his neck, then jerked back in pain, looking helplessly and pleadingly at Xiao Jue. His neck was slightly crooked due to stiffness and fear, exposing the rapidly swollen skin with two clear teeth marks to the other's view.

My mind was a jumbled mess, one moment filled with the terrifying thought of possibly dying from the poison, the next with the despair of "if the mission fails, we'll all be doomed," all mixed up in a chaotic jumble.

Xiao Jue, who had been knocked to the ground, had already sat up. His gaze immediately fell on the wound on Zhou Heng's neck, and his pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.

Then, he looked at Zhou Heng's face—that young face, now filled with fear and tears, pale and bloodless.

Only Zhou Heng's suppressed, intermittent gasps and his increasingly heavy heartbeat remained in the mine tunnel.

Xiao Jue's face remained expressionless. He didn't speak immediately, but reached out and grasped Zhou Heng's trembling shoulders, while his other hand firmly supported the back of his neck, stabilizing his swaying head.

His palms were large, and the warmth emanated through his thin clothing, strangely carrying a calming power.

Then, he lowered his head and brought his eyes close to the hideous wound on Zhou Heng's neck.

The warm breath brushed against my skin, sending a slight shiver down my spine.

Zhou Heng's neck stiffened, and he dared not move. He could only close his eyes tightly, his senses amplified by fear—he could clearly feel the pressure of Xiao Jue's fingers pressing on his skin, and smell the cold rust and faint blood on the other's body, mixed with the salty dampness of his own tears.

The next moment, a soft touch covered the wound, followed by a sharper and clearer stinging pain than a snake bite and an indescribable feeling of a foreign object from the sucking.

Zhou Heng gasped in pain, his body instinctively trying to shrink back, but he was firmly held in place by those hands.

The tears flowed even more fiercely.

The process was actually very brief. Xiao Jue spat out the poisonous blood he had sucked out, repeated it once more, and then rinsed his mouth with water.

His movements were swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation or disgust.

After doing all this, he took out a flat silver box from his pocket, picked out some dark green ointment with a bitter smell, and carefully applied it to Zhou Heng's wound.

The ointment felt cool on the skin, temporarily suppressing the burning pain.

"The Crimson Fire Chain," Xiao Jue finally spoke, his voice low and steady, revealing little emotion, "is slow-acting and won't kill you. The medicine can neutralize most of it, and the remaining poison will be eliminated on its own over time."

His words were like a reassuring pill. Zhou Heng's wildly beating heart finally calmed down a bit, and a feeling of exhaustion from surviving the ordeal washed over him.

He opened his eyes, his vision still blurry. He wiped his face haphazardly with his sleeve, smearing dust, tears, and ointment everywhere, making him look even more disheveled.

"Really...really won't die?" He sniffed, his voice thick with nasal congestion, and carefully touched the ointment-covered neck with his fingers, then hissed in pain.

"Hmm." Xiao Jue responded, withdrawing his hand and leaning back against the rock wall, closing his eyes to regulate his breathing, as if the brief and intimate contact had never happened.

However, the movement he had just made seemed to cause more dark blood to seep from the wound on his shoulder.

Zhou Heng sat there in a daze, the cool ointment on his neck and the lingering stinging sensation reminding him of what had just happened.

He looked at Xiao Jue's calm profile, wanting to thank him, but then felt a tightness in his throat. In the end, he simply buried his face in his knees, his shoulders twitching almost imperceptibly.

After an unknown amount of time—perhaps a moment, perhaps a long time—the distant cries of owls echoed from the depths of the mine, melodious and ethereal, piercing through layers of darkness.

Xiao Jue suddenly opened his eyes and listened intently. The cry repeated three times, its location clear.

He stood up, his movements slightly hesitant due to his shoulder injury, yet still as steady as a rock. "Can you walk?" He looked down at Zhou Heng, his gaze sweeping over his still somewhat pale face and swollen neck.

Zhou Heng raised his head, took a deep breath, and stood up, his legs still a little weak, but he nodded.

Xiao Jue said no more, picked up the nearly extinguished tinderbox from the ground, blew on it to make a little light, and took the lead in walking towards the direction from which the cry came.

His back looked exceptionally tall in the swaying light.

Zhou Heng followed silently, keeping a few steps behind.