Chapter Sixty-Six: Encountering Calamity

“Pfft... Cough, cough...” With Huo Lingtian’s support, Rongqing broke through the surface of the water, coughing out the water that had choked her nose. Amid the rushing current, they seemed as fragile as a lone leaf drifting at the mercy of the torrent. Huo Lingtian’s broad chest was pressed tightly against her, his arms locked firmly around her body. At this moment, however, the man behind her grew paler by the second. When they fell from the cliff, Huo Lingtian had shielded her with his own body, taking the full brunt of the impact. Blood streamed from his abdomen, and the icy water only worsened his state.

Rongqing’s eyes brimmed with tears, but in such peril she could not allow herself weakness, nor could she falter. Holding onto Huo Lingtian, she swam in the current, doing her best to avoid the rocks, paddling upstream to lessen the force of the torrent.

“My darling, I failed to protect you, failed to care for you,” Huo Lingtian said with a wry smile, a touch of bitter humor in such a desperate moment. Adversity reveals true feelings, and his beloved had not abandoned or forsaken him; they faced life and death together. After years of braving danger, for the first time Huo Lingtian felt attachment and the will to survive.

“Shut up!” Rongqing glared fiercely at him, gripping his hand even tighter, refusing to let go.

The current carried them downstream, where the river slowed and the water shallowed. Soaked and exhausted, Rongqing struggled to drag Huo Lingtian onto the grassy bank. The plain stretched wide beneath a blue sky, but neither had the heart to savor the view. Blood from Huo Lingtian’s wound continued to flow, the gash on his abdomen growing worse, his strength failing—once as mighty as a lion, now pale and feeble.

She laid him onto a flat boulder and carefully peeled aside his shirt, only for the sight of his injury to fill her with anguish. The most urgent task was to stop the bleeding, but first she needed fire. Ignoring her own exhaustion, she dragged herself in sodden trousers to gather dry kindling from the surroundings.

Crouched by the pile of wood, she clutched two flat stones, awkwardly imitating the ancient way of making fire. She struck the stones together hard, but not a single spark leapt forth.

Still she persisted, her pale fingertips reddening with each blow. Her clumsy, earnest struggle touched Huo Lingtian deeply, stirring a wave of tenderness and pity in his heart. This was the woman he loved, his precious gift from the heavens—no one else could ever hope to possess her.

At that moment, a small object landed by her side, accompanied by the man’s low laughter behind her. “Try this,” he said.

She opened it—it was a tinderbox. She shot him a glare, realizing he’d let her fumble just to watch her make a fool of herself. Hmph!

Before long, the fire was blazing. The flickering flames brought warmth to their bodies. Their clothes still drenched, they pressed close together atop the boulder, sharing what comfort they could.

Rongqing tore a strip from her now-dry clothes and tenderly wrapped it around Huo Lingtian’s waist. Like a frightened little rabbit, she watched the wound with anxious care; the slightest seep of blood or threat of reopening unnerved her.

“My darling, look at me... Don’t worry, don’t cry... It pains me more,” Huo Lingtian said, gaze deep and steady as he looked at the girl before him. Sharing both hardship and joy, even in such adversity, he felt a profound satisfaction.

He reached up to catch her falling tears as if they were treasures. See, his proud, stubborn beloved had shed tears for him; these pearls, more precious than any jewel, burned in his palm and branded his heart.

He drew her thin body into his arms, making a silent vow for a lifetime: never to leave, never to forsake.

“You idiot... Why did you come alone? Why did you save me?” Rongqing sobbed, her words tumbling out. Whether it was his risking his life or sacrificing himself for her, Huo Lingtian had broken through the last defenses of her heart; she was utterly defeated. This fool—making her worry, making her ache, making her cry!

“Don’t you know? If anything happened to you, what would I do? Who would care for me, who would spend a lifetime by my side?” Her cheeks were streaked with tears, like a weeping kitten.

Huo Lingtian was stunned, then pulled the emotional Rongqing into his embrace. His arms shook, his whole being dizzy with sudden happiness.

“My love... there, there... It’s my fault. I won’t make you worry again. We’ll be just fine, I promise.” At that moment, the President of the Huo Group was no more than a lovesick boy, thumping his chest in self-reproach, an act that made his sulking beloved burst into laughter.

“Don’t hit yourself, you’ll hurt your wound.” Her sobs turned to laughter as she checked his wound, relieved to find the bleeding stopped. Her anxiety and dread melted away, replaced by wholehearted trust in the man before her.

Dusk approached, the sky was exceptionally clear, and the stars shone bright. Man and woman lay side by side on the lush grass—a scene of breathtaking beauty and realness, the firelight illuminating their faces. That night, as Huo Lingtian’s fever worsened from his wound, his burning chest woke Rongqing. She pressed herself close to him, sharing her warmth, and throughout the night, she changed the cool cloth on his forehead, fed him water, and watched over him until dawn, when the fever finally broke. Only then, exhausted, did she allow herself to drift into sleep.

Half-awake, Rongqing felt there was something important she had to do, but she was so tired she could not rouse herself. Her whole body ached and shivered in the cold wind, but soon a gentle warmth enveloped her, soothing and revitalizing her weary limbs. Gradually, she sank into deep sleep.

“Mmm... Lingtian...” After two or three hours, she woke with a start, sitting up to search for him. Soon she saw him stride confidently out of the forest, bare-chested and carrying a freshly caught rabbit.

His strong frame was bandaged at the waist, and the wound had stopped bleeding. Rongqing’s tense heart finally relaxed—a sense of security amid unknown danger. She watched as he skewered the rabbit over the fire, then touched her now dry clothes, a faint smile lifting her lips.

She rose and went to the river to wash up. By the time she returned, the rabbit was roasted, its wild aroma making her empty stomach growl in protest. There was no salt or seasoning, but as she bit into a rabbit leg, the juices running down her chin, even the greasiest, plainest wild meat seemed a rare delicacy.

“Lingtian, you’re awfully good at roasting meat. Have you spent a lot of time in the wild?” Rongqing asked, noting not just his skill at roasting, but his choice of terrain and his adeptness at hunting. Clearly, this was not a man unacquainted with hardship. It was hard to reconcile such a privileged son of fortune with the faded scars on his abdomen and back—what kind of ordeals had left their marks upon him?

Huo Lingtian wiped the grease from her lips with his thumb, his face soft with affection. In a calm, almost casual tone, he began to tell his story: “I grew up under the protection of the Huo family. Even as a child in kindergarten, I was the little tyrant—everyone looked to me, teachers were wary of my status, classmates were afraid, and even my closest kin sought to use me. Maybe the Huo family’s exceptional genes set me apart early, and my courage made me a force to be reckoned with. In my youth, I once broke the leg of someone who challenged my authority. Later, the pressure and constraints of the family made me rebel—I fought, ran with gangs, even formed my own little brotherhood. Together, we built our own power. The Dragon Gang spread through City X, and with our youth and the family’s backing, we ruled the streets for a while. We swept through the Southeast Asian smuggling routes, fought challengers for our turf, lived rough in the wild more than once. My brothers and I lived with our heads on the line; it was dangerous, but we lived fast and free, eating and drinking as we pleased, doing what we wanted, not as puppets or designated heirs of the family.”

“But everything changed the year I was about to come of age.” Huo Lingtian drew a deep breath. The wild, bloody days gave way to a shadow of sorrow. “My parents died in a plane crash. They’d always encouraged me to be independent, to stay true to myself, and never interfered with my choices—even in my most chaotic, violent days, they never showed disappointment. My mother’s gentleness and my father’s stern wisdom let me grow up healthy in that stifling family. Their deaths hit me hard. I wandered, lost, shut myself in for three days and nights, staring at the stars, pondering the meaning of life. When I emerged, I left the Dragon Gang, shed all burdens and control, and began to take on the family business—maneuvering, scheming, building my own commercial empire. Maybe parents don’t always control you, but their care and love never lessen—just as their passing struck me to my core.”

As he spoke, Rongqing nestled closer to him, her heart aching at the pain and struggles he’d only hinted at.

－－－－－－Author’s Note－－－－－－

Dear readers, I’ll be taking a day off tomorrow and won’t be updating. No need to wait for the next chapter—see you soon.