After a while, Shen Liang’s voice broke the quiet. “It’s ready,” he said.
The woman opened her eyes. Their blue hue remained, sharp and deep as before, as she watched him lift the bamboo flask.
He uncorked it, took a brief sniff, then smiled. “The medicine to drive away your curse is ready,” he said, extending the flask toward her.
But just as she reached for it, he pulled it back slightly and added, “Come inside. The flask mustn’t be touched by rainwater—its effect will weaken if it does.”
The woman’s gaze sharpened. She pressed a hand against her abdomen again as she stood up. Her clothes were now completely caked with mud. Lowering her head, she stepped into the small hut, moving to the side of Shen Liang before crouching down. Her breathing was uneven, and pain was clear on her face.
Handing her the flask, Shen Liang said, “Drink all of it—but don’t swallow the leaves. Only the liquid.”
Her pale right hand grasped the bamboo flask, uncapped, and lifted it to her lips. She drank slowly, her eyes never leaving Shen Liang’s face. When the last drop slid down her throat and only the dry leaves remained, she handed the flask back to him.
Moments after Shen Liang took it, a thunderclap exploded above them. The woman suddenly clutched her stomach with both hands, her wide blue eyes filled with agony. Her teeth ground together as she fought the pain, her body trembling violently.
Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground. Her head struck the wooden wall, and in the next instant the frail hut came crashing down around her.
She lay motionless amid the broken wood, her hands still pressed against her abdomen. Her once blue eyes slowly dimmed, her voice barely a whisper.
“My message… it’s in my pocket,” she murmured—and then her eyes closed.
Several pieces of the collapsed hut had struck Shen Liang, but he barely reacted. The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking him from head to toe.
He pulled back his drenched hood and brushed a hand through his short, wet hair. His eyes fell on the woman as he held the bamboo flask—now empty except for the wilted leaves inside.
The air shifted suddenly. Within moments, the temperature dropped so fast it stole the breath from the night. The woman’s body began to burn—not with ordinary fire, but with a flame of pure blue. Its glow drained all color from the world, turning the surroundings pale and ghostly. The blue fire spread outward, swift and alive, yet wherever it touched, things did not burn—they froze.
Trees, leaves, earth, even the falling raindrops turned to frost the instant the flame reached them.
Shen Liang, caught within its reach, felt the fire lick his skin. The heat was sharp, then suddenly numb, as his flesh began to freeze. He let out a low, surprised breath. “You’re one hell of a lady,” he muttered. “A Frozen Flame...”
He raised his right hand slightly, letting a faint ripple of his suppressed power flow outward. In an instant, the cold was gone—swallowed by a gentle warmth that radiated from him like sunlight.
The blue flames flickered, then vanished, their frost melting away. Ice turned to water, trees regained their color, and the rain fell normally once again. The woman’s body, too, slowly thawed, her breath returning as the night once again filled with the sound of rain.
Silently, he began gathering the fallen wooden planks one by one. Despite the cold rain, he worked patiently, rebuilding the small shelter to cover the woman’s body.
When he was done, he stood outside the newly made hut, his voice calm but faintly ironic. “It seems you can deliver your message yourself after all,” he said.
He looked at her face—it seemed a little less pale, her expression calmer. Shen Liang smiled faintly.
Then he glanced down at himself, soaked and muddy, before turning his gaze toward the path ahead. The road leading up the hill was still dark and slick with rain.
Checking his pouch to ensure it hadn’t gotten wet, he took one last look at the woman, then stepped forward. Step by step, his figure moved through the puddled road, fading into the darkness of the night—accompanied only by the distant rumble of thunder.