His gaze shifted then, finally meeting mine, sharp even in its haze. "Dragons… don't die so easily."
The words echoed the same arrogance he'd spoken before collapsing, but they were thinner now, stretched over the raw edge of his weakness. He tried to push himself up, but his arm faltered, trembling violently until I caught it.
"Don't," I said firmly, pressing him back against the cushions. "You'll tear the wound open again."
His jaw clenched, as though the weight of being held down offended him more than the injury itself. For a heartbeat, he looked as though he'd argue. But then his strength gave way, and he sank back, silent, his chest rising unevenly.
I swallowed hard, the sting of unshed words burning my throat. "You're impossible."
Behind me, Dòu Dòu let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no joy in it. "Welcome back, Mingzhu. You had us worried."
Mingzhu closed his eyes again, but the faintest curve touched his lips whether a smirk or a grimace, I couldn't tell.
His breathing steadied, though every inhale still sounded like it cost him effort. I adjusted the blanket around his shoulders, careful not to meet his eyes again.
For a long moment, the room was quiet. Then, unexpectedly, his voice cut through it hoarse, softer than before.
"…You shouldn't have stayed."
I turned sharply. "Excuse me?"
His gaze flicked toward me, heavy lidded but sharper than it had any right to be. "You look half-dead yourself. Humans… they break easier than they think."
I bristled. "And yet here you are, the mighty dragon, flat on your back while a 'breakable human' keeps you alive."
For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Not anger, not disdain something more like reluctant amusement. His mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile vanishing as quickly as it came.
"You're… infuriating," he murmured, voice fading. "And stubborn."
I froze, the words catching me off guard. That was as close to gratitude as I would ever expect from him.
Before I could respond, his eyes slipped shut again, though his breathing no longer sounded so fragile.
From the corner, Dòu Dòu stretched with an exaggerated yawn. "Well, well. He almost sounded human there for a second."
I shot him a glare, but inside, my chest felt strange tight, unsteady, as if that fleeting softness in Mingzhu's tone had unsettled something I didn't want touched.
When his eyes opened again, they were clearer. The fever's haze had loosened its grip, and for the first time since the fight, there was something steady in his gaze.
"You should rest," he said quietly. His voice was rough, but not sharp.
I blinked. "Did you just order me to rest?"
A faint shadow of that familiar arrogance curved his mouth. "You've been hovering like a restless spirit for days. Even mortals can't run on willpower alone."
The words shouldn't have felt like kindness, but they did. My cheeks heated in spite of myself. "Maybe I wouldn't have to hover if someone didn't throw himself into danger every other hour."