The night had grown quiet, and the air outside the cave was cool.
Most of the tribe had already fallen asleep. The sound of the wind brushing through the trees mixed with the faint crackle of the fires still burning near the smoking racks.
But inside Su Qinglan's cave, she couldn't rest.
She sat on the edge of the stone bed, her eyes fixed on the dim light flickering from the dying fire.
It was already late.
And Xuan Long still hadn't come back.
She had eaten dinner earlier with Rong Ye, though "eaten" wasn't the right word...more like forced herself to.
That fox had spent the whole evening whining, complaining, and puffing up his fur every few minutes, acting as if the world owed him comfort.
Every time she touched him to check his wounds, he would yelp dramatically, insisting that Xuan Long had beaten him within an inch of his life.
But when she looked closely, there was barely a mark on him.
Still, he pouted and glared, acting like the most pitiful creature alive.
