The entire treehouse finally became silent.
Upstairs, Su Qinglan was fast asleep in Hu Yan’s arms, her body finally getting the rest it needed. Even the cubs had eventually drifted off, huddled together in a warm, fuzzy pile in their basket.
Downstairs, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the quiet movement of Han Jue and Rong Ye.
Han Jue was focused on the cooking, the smell of savory meat stew filling the air.
Rong Ye was nearby, moving quietly as he packed some dried food and essential items into a small bag. They didn’t talk; they both knew they had to be ready for anything once the sun came up.
On the floor, Shi Feng let out a low, painful groan. His eyes fluttered open, but his vision was blurry.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time, feeling completely groggy. He didn’t know where he was or how much time had passed.
"What... what happened?" he whispered, his voice dry like sand.
He slowly tried to sit up, expecting the sharp, tearing pain of his wounds to scream at him.
He remembered the feeling of Xuan Long’s claws and the crushing weight of the snake’s body. But as he moved, he realized his body only held a dull ache. There was no agony.
He looked down at his chest and was shocked. He ran his fingers over the faint, pink scars that covered his skin. The deep, life-threatening gashes were gone. They had been replaced by smooth, healed flesh.
"She saved me," he murmured.
He realized he was in Su Qinglan’s house. He could smell her faint, sweet scent everywhere.
It was a smell that made his heart beat faster. He looked over at the bed nearby and saw the three cubs sleeping peacefully in a basket. He realized then that he had been left to lie on the cold floor.
He didn’t feel angry about the floor.
Instead, he felt a strange sense of warmth. She was a witch doctor or something even more powerful. She bring him back from the edge of death.
Shi Feng forced himself to stand up. His legs were a bit shaky, but he could walk. He followed the light coming from the cooking area and stepped outside the room.
He saw Han Jue stirring a pot and Rong Ye tying up a hide bag. The two men didn’t even look up at first, their faces cold and focused.
"You’re awake," Han Jue said without turning around. His voice was like ice, showing that he wasn’t happy to see the Lion King standing in his personal space.
Shi Feng leaned against the doorframe, looking at them. "Where is she?"
Han Jue stopped stirring the pot and looked directly at Shi Feng. His eyes were cold and full of suspicion.
"How did you defeat Xuan Long?" he asked bluntly. "He is a powerful beastman with ancient blood. A lion should not have been able to win against him so easily."
Shi Feng didn’t even respond. He didn’t look at Han Jue, and he didn’t offer an explanation.
He just walked toward the stove, sniffing the air to see what was being cooked. He acted like he was a guest in a fine hotel rather than a man who had just been beaten half to death.



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