Chapter 081: A Night on the Deserted Island

The overgrown Lover’s Island seemed somewhat desolate.

Jiang Yao lay exhausted on the shore, gazing up at the deep blue sky and the occasional bird flying overhead, breathing in big, desperate gulps. The island, rumored to be ill-fated, had unexpectedly become the place where she and He Yunqing had been reborn.

She wiped the seawater from her face and turned to look at He Yunqing, who was lying beside her. “Hey, are you all right?”

He Yunqing had lost who knew how much blood; his face was as pale as paper. At the sound of Jiang Yao’s voice, he forced his closed eyes open a little and managed a faint reply, “Mm.”

Jiang Yao pushed herself up, still breathless. “Hang in there—don’t you dare die on me after all the effort I just put in.”

She glanced at the wounds on He Yunqing’s body, then decisively tore at her own clothes, intending to rip off a strip to bind his injuries. But after a few attempts, she hadn’t succeeded.

“You—close your eyes and keep them closed,” Jiang Yao said, and simply took off her shirt, left only in a bandeau, and used the shirt to make a makeshift bandage for him.

Fortunately, it seemed unlikely anyone else was on this island.

Looking around, Jiang Yao wondered if she could find any herbs to stop the bleeding. The bullet lodged in He Yunqing’s shoulder also needed to be removed as soon as possible.

But she had never done anything like extracting a bullet and truly had no idea where to start.

The sky was growing dark.

She hesitated, rubbing her blood-stained hands together, and found a small cave nearby that could provide shelter. She dragged He Yunqing inside.

Who knew if there were venomous snakes or wild beasts on this island?

She gently propped He Yunqing against the rocky wall, then went out again, managing to find some hemostatic herbs and gather a few wild fruits and some firewood.

Night fell.

Jiang Yao spent a long time recalling how ancients made fire by friction, and at last, a fire blazed beside He Yunqing.

He Yunqing seemed a little revived. He slowly opened his eyes and watched Jiang Yao bustling around the fire, then cleared his throat softly.

Jiang Yao turned around and saw him looking at her. She glanced down at herself and quickly reached out to cover He Yunqing’s eyes. “Close your eyes. No looking.”

He Yunqing obediently closed his eyes, listening to the crackling and popping of the fire. In a weak voice, he said, “Holding on to me and refusing to let go was foolish.”

Even though he couldn’t see, Jiang Yao shot him a sidelong glance and snapped back, “You’re one to talk. You were so clever when you took the bullet for me.”

He Yunqing gave a faint, powerless smile.

He must have been especially favored when the heavens molded him, for even in such a sorry state, his smile was still so beautiful.

Jiang Yao took out half a razor blade she always carried with her and heated it over the fire. “He Yunqing, the bullet in your shoulder has to come out, but... I don’t know how.”

“I do,” he said softly. “But you’ll have to help me. I’ll tell you what to do.”

Jiang Yao gritted her teeth and undid the shirt binding his wound, exposing the bloody injury, her heart in her throat.

“Don’t be nervous. At worst, I’ll lose the arm,” He Yunqing said.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Jiang Yao retorted, gripping the blade tightly.

He Yunqing smiled with an air of indifference, as if it was someone else’s injury. “Let’s start when you’re ready.”

Following He Yunqing’s instructions, Jiang Yao forced herself to focus as she looked at the torn flesh, repeating to herself to stay calm. At last, she managed to extract the bullet.

She collapsed beside him, utterly spent, and at last, tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying? You did it, didn’t you?”

Jiang Yao wiped her tears away and pressed the herbs she’d prepared to his wound. “It all feels surreal. How do we go on a simple trip and end up in something like this?”

Despite the pain, He Yunqing was amused by her words.

“You still have the energy to laugh!” Jiang Yao glared at him. “This is just a rough bandage for now. Once we’re back, you’ll need to go to the hospital and get it properly treated.”

She quickly finished tending his wound and stuffed a few wild fruits into his hands.

She sat by the fire, tossing in more wood.

The healthy flames cast a rosy glow across her face.

“I know these fruits. They’re not poisonous, though they don’t taste great right now. Just make do and eat them to regain some strength,” Jiang Yao said, leaning against the cave entrance. “Luckily, this island isn’t too remote. Tomorrow, a ship should pass by, and we’ll be able to go home.”

“Mm.” He Yunqing took a bite of the fruit, watching her face flushed red by the firelight.

“I told you not to look, and you’re still looking.” Jiang Yao shielded herself with her slender arms.

Saying they’d be rescued tomorrow was meant to comfort He Yunqing, but it was even more to reassure herself.

But it wouldn’t be much longer. After all, when Cheng Yanchi returned to the hotel and found her missing, he would definitely search everywhere for her.

“And Cheng Yanchi,” Jiang Yao added, “he’ll find us soon, I’m sure.”

He Yunqing took a large bite of the fruit.

The fruit was indeed unpleasant, but no matter how bad it tasted, at the mention of Cheng Yanchi, he felt the urge to devour it all in one bite.

Late at night, rain began to fall, and He Yunqing developed a fever.

Even with the fire burning strong, the man shivered uncontrollably, his eyes tightly shut.

Jiang Yao pressed her hand to his forehead—it was burning hot.

“He Yunqing, are you very cold?”

He Yunqing, perhaps already delirious from the fever, gave no reply.

Jiang Yao clenched her jaw and hugged him tightly. “Does this help?”

Still, He Yunqing said nothing; the only response was his furrowed brow.

Jiang Yao held him even closer. “It’s all right, it’s all right, everything’s going to be fine. He Yunqing, just hold on. Tomorrow, everything will get better.”

She choked on her words as she spoke. “He Yunqing, you mustn’t let anything happen to you. You promised you’d never let go of my hand—you can’t break your word now…”

When the sun rose, the rain had stopped.

The fire had burned down to a heap of ashes.

He Yunqing’s fever had finally broken.

He opened his eyes slowly and saw Jiang Yao nestled in his arms, holding him tightly.

She must have been utterly exhausted, for even lying in this uncomfortable position, she slept soundly, her little head nuzzling unconsciously closer to He Yunqing from time to time, her lips softly smacking.

He looked at her peaceful sleeping face, the dirt smudged on her cheeks, and couldn’t help but reach out and gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Achoo!” Jiang Yao sneezed, slowly opening her eyes…