The cave was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire. Yue Zilan sat cross-legged in front of the two bound men, her expression calm but her eyes slightly narrowed that made their stomachs tighten.
After a brief moment of silence, "Tell me about the mountains. The number of strongholds and gangs."
The tall man—Lu Hong—shifted uncomfortably. "We… we're only low-level members. We don't know much."
Zilan tilted her head. "Hmm. I suppose that makes you useless, then."
Before either could speak, her fingers clamped around Wang Shun's hand. A flick of her dagger—and his fingernail lifted away in one clean motion. His muffled scream echoed in the cave.
Lu Hong flinched, his face paling.
"I'll ask again," Zilan said, her tone unchanged. "The Black Fang gang. Tell me about them."
They exchanged a glance. Lu Hong licked his lips. "We… have a base in the northern cliffs near the black pine forest. Nearly fifty men. We only raid small villages."
"Only?" Zilan's smile didn't reach her eyes.
When Wang Shun hesitated at her next question, she didn't bother with words—another fingernail came off, this time from Lu Hong. The cave filled with their ragged breathing and pained groans.
The questioning continued, slow and relentless. Every time one of them lied, or even thought of holding something back, another fingernail fell to the cave floor. By the time she was done, both men sagged against the corner of the cave, sweat-drenched and trembling.
Zilan stood, wiping her blade clean on a strip of cloth. Her stomach let out a quiet growl. She sighed. "Stay put. Don't die before I get back."
She stepped outside, disappearing into the forest.
—
The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and pine. Zilan moved with quiet efficiency, searching for both food and anything worth gathering. She picked wild fruits, plucked a few fragrant herbs between her fingers, and plucked some wild spices she recognized from memory.
The afternoon's hunt rewarded her with a rabbit and two pheasants. She gutted and cleaned them on the spot, discarding the innards for scavengers.
Then, as she followed a faint animal trail, she paused. Her eyes swept over the ground.
Claw marks. Deep, wide, and fresh.
She knelt, touching the grooves in the sand. The corners of her lips curved upward. "A tiger…"
Her mood brightened instantly. But she didn't follow the trail. Not yet. A predator like that required preparation.
With a last glance toward the claw marks, she turned back toward the cave.
—
By the time she returned, the light had begun to fade. She worked methodically—skinning the rabbit and pheasants, washing the meat, setting a neat fire. Soon, the rich aroma of roasting meat and crushed spices filled the cave.
The two men stirred. Their stomachs growled audibly, and both found themselves watching the fire despite themselves.
The tall man swallowed hard. "…What kind of meat is that?" he muttered, almost to himself.
Zilan caught the words. Her head tilted slightly, and she gave them a kind smile that seemed almost angelic. "Uncles… are you hungry?"
They shook their heads so fast it was almost comical.
Her smile deepened. "I'm not so inhumane as to starve you."
She set aside half the roasted rabbit and one of the pheasants, carrying the platter made of leaves toward them. With unhurried movements, she untied their ropes, then sat cross-legged opposite to them, biting into her share.
The two men exchanged a wary glance. Neither reached for the food.
"If you're worried about poison…" She chuckled lightly, taking another bite. "I already ate some, didn't I?"
Cautiously, they began to eat. The first bite made them freeze. The meat was tender, seasoned with something and aromatic.
In their entire lives, they had never tasted anything like this. It was the kind of food a starving man could cry over.
Hunger won out over fear. They ate quickly, almost greedily, finishing every last scrap.
It was only afterward, when the eyesight began to blur and their limbs grew heavy, that they realized something was wrong.
Sweat slicked their skin, Their tongues felt dry, The world spun around them.
And there she was again—that small, sweet smile on her lips, looking at them as if they were children who had just been tricked into doing something foolish.
The last thing they felt before blacking out was fear… the fear of knowing they had once again fallen for the warm smile of the little devil.