The sun had yet to set, but its fury still poured mercilessly over the golden ocean of the Tagore Desert. The dunes stretched like endless waves, broken only by the hiss of wind dragging sand and the ragged breathing of two lone travelers.
—Why… do we have to retrace our steps…? —Die Ba panted, sweat pearling along her brow. The dryness in her throat was unbearable, and her tail carved a winding trail in the sand behind her.
—The mercenaries saw where we ran, —Zhu Xian answered, his voice steady but tired. —If we want to throw them off, we have to head north, even if it takes us farther from your lands.
Die Ba turned to him, her almond-shaped eyes wide beneath the relentless sun. Despite her exhaustion, she carried herself with the fragile elegance of a flower that bloomed in the sand.
—There. —Zhu Xian raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the glare. —Between those two rocks. There’s shade.
They trudged forward until they reached a small rock formation jutting from the dune like a pair of jagged fangs. In the narrow strip of shadow, the promise of relief waited.
As soon as they stepped into the darkness, both of them collapsed almost at the same time.
Zhu Xian exhaled sharply. Sweat plastered his shirt to his back, and the deep gash there throbbed with violent pain.
Die Ba noticed. She approached him slowly, almost hesitantly.
—Let me help you, —she said softly, pulling a strip of cloth and a small pouch of herbs from her belt.
Zhu Xian handed her a small medicinal root from his pack.
—Crush it and apply it to the wound.
She nodded. Carefully, she moved behind him and began to lift his shirt.
—This… might hurt, —she murmured.
Zhu Xian didn’t answer. His shoulders tensed only slightly as the fabric peeled away from dried blood and broken skin.
The air between them grew heavy —not from shame, but from an unexpected intimacy.
—Ah… —Die Ba gasped when she saw the depth of the cut. —This… this was for protecting me…
—Don’t exaggerate, —he said flatly.
She pressed her lips together, silent. Slowly, carefully, she ground the root between her fingers until it became a thick green paste. As she spread it across the wound, Zhu Xian didn’t flinch, as though the pain no longer mattered.
Die Ba tore the cloth into strips, wrapping his back with steady hands, tying the final knot into a small, discreet bow. Then she whispered:
—The wound is covered. But… the scar will stay with you.
—Then it’ll be a good memory, —he replied simply.
Die Ba glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
—Why did you save me?
Zhu Xian leaned back against the stone. The shadow cast soft patterns across his face.
—Because you deserved to be saved. Because… I hate slavery. Because being of another race should never decide your fate.
She lowered her gaze, her voice softening.
—The mercenaries… they were after me specifically. Some humans want to capture me to bargain with my people. Others… from my own clan… they want me dead.
Zhu Xian studied her quietly.
Silence lingered. The wind whistled through the rocks, like the desert itself was listening.
At Sunset
Later, Die Ba gathered the other rescued serpent women. She handed them a small map and a sealed letter.
—Head toward this point, —she instructed. —There’s a hidden settlement under our protection. You’ll be safe there.
One of the girls stepped closer, voice trembling.
—Your Highness, come with us. You can’t stay out here alone.
—No. —Die Ba shook her head firmly. —If I go, they’ll track you faster. I won’t risk you. I’ll trust this man. He saved us. He’s… not like the others.
Zhu Xian stepped closer, having overheard her.
—I’ll take you all to the edge of the settlement, —he said calmly.
Die Ba shook her head again.
—They’ll be fine. It’s not far. But I… I have to keep moving north.
—What’s to the north? —he asked.
—A sacred forest, —Die Ba said, a distant, almost wistful look in her eyes. —A place that divides the desert from the civilized lands.
Zhu Xian crossed his arms.
—I’ve been wandering aimlessly in this sea of sand for days. I suppose following you is better than being lost.
She looked at him. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she smiled faintly, lowering her gaze.
—Thank you… for coming with me.
As night fell, they left the shelter of the rocks, walking in silence through the endless expanse. The wind’s song surrounded them, accompanied by the distant roar of some unseen beast.
She walked ahead, her tail drawing delicate curves in the sand. He followed, his eyes quietly fixed on her steady steps.
A serpent, radiant as a blooming flower, beneath the pale light of the moon.