Despite her weakness, despite everything that had happened between them, she found herself managing a faint smile.
She bit her lips and softly extended the herb in her hand toward him.
"Eat this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It will help you recover."
He blinked up at her, his expression shifting from wariness to something that might have been surprise.
With a teasing smirk that reminded her painfully of Lin Feng's playful moments, he replied, "I guess your heart is as beautiful as you are."
Her entire body trembled at his words, and she closed her eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling within her chest.
She was acutely aware of her nakedness, but as she shifted position, her fox tails instinctively curled around her body, the soft fur providing natural coverage like a living garment.
Without another word, she turned away from him and walked back to the jagged stone where she had been sitting, settling down with her eyes fixed on his form in a mixture of wariness and something she couldn't quite name.
Doubt gnawed at her like a living thing.
Was she losing her mind? Was grief and desperation making her see connections that didn't exist? She had the perfect opportunity to kill him—he was exhausted, vulnerable, completely at her mercy.
One strike to a vital point and her quest for vengeance would be complete.
But as she watched, he struggled to sit up, took the herb she had offered, and popped it into his mouth without hesitation.
His eyes widened almost immediately, and genuine excitement lit up his tired features.
"Wow," he said, his voice filled with amazement that seemed completely unfeigned. "It really works!"
The pure enthusiasm in his voice, the childlike wonder at the herb's effectiveness, stirred something deep in her memory.
Lin Feng had sounded exactly like that when he first discovered his purification abilities, back when they were both young and the world seemed full of possibilities rather than endless war.
"Of course it does, idiot," she muttered under her breath, though there was less venom in the words than she intended.
Apparently reinvigorated by the herb's effects, Cang Wuhen climbed to his feet and walked over to where she sat.
He dropped down beside the massive pile of purified herbs with a relaxed sigh, as if sitting next to a fortune that could buy several kingdoms was the most natural thing in the world.
"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, smiling as he gestured toward the stack of golden-glowing spiritual medicines. "You don't want to eat them?"
Lianhua stared at him in complete bewilderment. "What are you saying?"
The question hung in the air between them like something physical. Was he seriously suggesting they eat these priceless treasures like common food?
Each of these herbs was worth more than most people would see in a lifetime, and he was talking about them like vegetables at a market.
His grin faded slightly as realization seemed to dawn on him. "Oh shit, I forgot. Yes. How can one eat them without boiling?"
Her mouth twitched involuntarily at the sheer absurdity of his words.
The idea of boiling these legendary spiritual medicines like soup ingredients was so ridiculous it bordered on sacrilege.
Cang Wuhen stood abruptly, stretching his tired limbs as exhaustion weighed heavily on his movements.
Despite his fatigue, there was a determined energy about him as his eyes scanned the cavern until they landed on a peculiar fruit nestled within a natural rock arch.
Lianhua watched with growing bewilderment as he approached what she now realized was no ordinary fruit, but a seed from the legendary Blossom Tree—a divine plant spoken of in hushed reverence as the ultimate source of enlightenment, capable of catalyzing breakthroughs beyond mortal comprehension.
With casual disregard for its astronomical value, he tore the large seed in half with his bare hands, fashioning two crude but functional cups from the smooth inner flesh.
Her eyes widened in shock at his treatment of something so precious, but she remained silent, transfixed by his actions.
Moving to the contaminated pond, he dipped one of his improvised cups into the murky water.
The moment his skin made contact with the liquid, it began to glow with that same divine radiance she had witnessed before—his purification power at work again, transforming poison into purity with effortless grace.
Next, he broke off pieces of dried bark from a nearby withered tree—another legendary specimen that cultivation masters would kill to possess even a fragment of.
Setting the bark on rough stones, he began striking two rocks together with practiced movements, coaxing sparks that soon bloomed into a small but steady fire.
"What are you doing? Are you really...?" she asked, her voice trailing off as disbelief warred with a growing sense of recognition.
He glanced toward her with that familiar teasing smile. "You just got that surgery, you know? How much worse will it be if you get too hurt?"
She blinked, her gaze unconsciously tracing the faint scar on her chest visible through the gaps in her protective fox tails.
The word "surgery" finally made sense now—his careful stitching, the sterile technique, the medical knowledge. It had all been treatment, not torture.
Her mouth parted but no words came as she watched him tend to the boiling herbs, their divine aroma filling the air.
To her, these were priceless relics of power, treasures that empires would wage war over.
Yet he handled them with the casual familiarity of someone preparing a simple meal.
"I tried to kill you," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire.
He met her eyes with steady calmness. "Because I'm a doctor. Doesn't that mean I have to care for my patients? And especially... you're beautiful. That's just a bonus."
Her heart thundered so loudly she was certain he could hear it. Why did his words feel so achingly familiar? Why did they echo with the same gentle warmth that Lin Feng had always shown her?
When he offered her a steaming cup filled with the boiled herb mixture, memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Lin Feng, sitting by their campfire during the war, cooking their meager rations with the same focused care.
The way he would smile as he handed her food, the way his eyes would crinkle with genuine happiness at such simple moments of peace.
She accepted the cup with trembling hands, watching as he settled beside the pile of purified treasures and began eating the cooked herbs with the genuine enthusiasm of someone discovering a delicious meal.
The sight was so endearingly ordinary, so perfectly reminiscent of her husband appreciation for simple pleasures, that she found herself stifling a chuckle despite everything.
But beneath the momentary lightness, a deeper pain bloomed—a question so potent it shook her to her very core.
Gathering her courage, she voiced the test that had been forming in her mind: "Have you ever seen a car?"
Her heart pounded as she searched his face for any flicker of recognition.
Lin Feng had often spoken of strange things from his past life—mysterious contraptions and technologies that existed in worlds beyond their own.
Cars had been one of his favorite topics.
He blinked, then answered with casual familiarity: "Of course I did. Come on. Personally, I prefer those sports cars rather than the regular ones. But you know, sports cars are costly."
His tone was so natural, so perfectly matching Lin Feng's way of speaking about those impossible things, that tears began gathering in her eyes.
The memories came flooding back—Lin Feng's voice as he described these fantastical machines, his wistful expressions as he spoke of another life, another world.
Finally, the name that had been burning on her lips slipped out like a prayer: "Lin Feng."
He flinched—a sharp, involuntary reaction that lasted only a moment before he shook his head vigorously, as if trying to dispel a sudden flood of memories or confusion.
That single gesture was all the confirmation she needed... he was her Lin Feng.