The dusk was like ink, gradually seeping through the tent's seams. Shi Ying knelt on the beast fur blanket; her silver armor had long been shed, now wearing only a moon-white inner garment. Her hands gently stirred the deer meat soup in the clay jar with a copper spoon, the steaming heat blurring the worry in her eyes that wouldn't dissipate.
Bai Zhi leaned against the tent curtain, her delicate hands fluttering like butterflies, grinding the golden sore medicine into fine powder, while the flute lay slanted against her knee, but she had no heart to play it.
"Husband, drink this soup first." Shi Ying scooped up a spoonful of soup, lightly blew it cool, and brought it to Shi Feiyang's lips. "This is stewed with a hundred-year-old ginseng and Celestial Snow Lotus; it is the best for replenishing energy." Her fingertip inadvertently brushed against his cracked lips, suddenly bringing tears to her eyes. "Look at you, what you've turned yourself into for this battle..."
