Yan Shen stepped from the den's mouth, two thick stalks of moonroot slung over one shoulder, their tangled roots trailing clods of damp earth. They pulsed with a low, heavy Qi, dense and slow-burning. These were no longer common herbs; they had grown potent on blood and presence and time.
His steps across the hollow were unhurried, deliberate. He moved not toward Ji Suyin, but toward the source of the day's violence.
The Boar Lord's body lay where it had fallen, slumped and half-sunken into the groove its death had carved. Thin wisps of steam rose from the torn chest. The ground beneath was a dark stain. The air carried the fading scent of musk and extinguished power.
Yan Shen crouched beside the corpse. His palm pressed against the thick hide of its neck, feeling through muscle for the concentrated memory of power. His other hand formed a fist.
He drove it down.
Once.
Twice.
The hide split with a wet tear. He pushed his hand into the wound. The meat was tough, resisting, but he worked with slow, grinding pressure until his fingers closed around something smooth and unnaturally warm. A firm pull, and it came free.
The beast core lay in his palm: round, heavy, dark, with a faint, deep-seated glow like a banked coal. He regarded it for a moment. Then dropped it into his pouch.
Still kneeling, he turned to the upper shoulder. His hands, unarmed, were tools enough. He curled his fingers, wedged them beneath the collarbone, and pulled. Muscle and sinew tore with a low, fibrous crunch. He worked in silence, separating four thick slabs of meat from the carcass. Each piece steamed faintly, twitching with residual energy.
He stood, the meat in one hand, the moonroot in the other.
He looked down at what remained.
Not with anger.
With calculation.
His voice, when it came, was almost too soft to hear.
"You made me panic."
A breath passed.
"I showed too much."
"And I hurt her."
His eyes lingered on the blood-soaked soil.
"I'm going to cook you tonight."
It was not a threat. It was the next logical step.
The fire burned low and steady behind a flat stone windbreak. Yan Shen set the pan across the heat and laid in the first slices of meat. They landed with a heavy hiss, steam rising in thick, fragrant curls. The scent was different, richer, deeper, touched by something primal.
He watched the meat sear. Fat rendered gold at the edges, crackling as it curled. The surface browned too fast, as if the Qi within was still active, reacting to the flame.
He flipped the first slice, let it crisp, then set it aside. He tore a piece free and ate.
The effect was immediate. The Qi moved, not violently, but like a warm current through stone. It sank into marrow, settled into deep tissue. It was consolidating, restorative. Predator power transformed into sustenance.
He swallowed slowly.
This would help her heal.
He turned. Ji Suyin sat nearby, her posture correct but her pallor still evident. Dried blood traced dark lines from her ears. Her hands were steady on her knees, but the day's strain was held in her shoulders. She did not ask for anything.
He placed another slice in the pan, cooked it until just tender, then set it on a folded cloth. He held it out.
"Eat."
She took it. Her fingers brushed his. A small, tired, but real smile touched her lips.
"You're feeding me now?" she said, taking a deliberate bite. "If you keep this up, I might get attached."
He didn't look at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You already are," he said.
She made an exaggerated sound of satisfaction, stretching her arms. "Mmm... no wonder you're so strong, Yan Shen. You eat beasts like they're side dishes."
He didn't rise to it. He set another piece to cook and listened to the fire crackle.
Then her voice lowered, quieter, more intimate. She set the meat aside and leaned forward slightly.
"If you really want to make up for hurting me…"
A pause.
"…we should dual cultivate tonight."
He flinched.
Then turned his head to meet her gaze.
She didn't look away. Her eyes were wide, innocent on the surface. Beneath, there was a spark. Warmth. Challenge. For once, nothing was hidden.
That made it dangerous.
Yan Shen looked at her for a long moment. At the color returning to her cheeks. At the way she leaned toward him, ever so slightly.
Finally, his expression softened. Like it never had before.
And he said:
"Finish your meat first."
Ji Suyin blinked.
Eyes wide, caught off guard.
Then, slowly her smile grew. It spread past her mouth, to her cheeks, into her eyes. It wasn't polite. It wasn't practiced.
It was pure, genuine pleasure.
And for the first time that day, she let herself laugh, soft, full, and unburdened.
The fire kept burning. The scent of cooked power filled the air. The night deepened around them, holding its breath.